


Redemption

by Bittodeath



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Attempt at Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, Fix-It, Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, M/M, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Memories, Minor Original Character(s), Moral Dilemmas, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Psychological Trauma, Smut, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:48:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24632578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittodeath/pseuds/Bittodeath
Summary: After his death and joining with the Force, Anakin wakes up some twenty years in the past, a year before the start of the war, with all his memories intact. Determined to make amends and not let things go as badly, he decides to change his own destiny and counter Sidious’ plans... But he’s still Anakin Skywalker, Master of Bad Decisions, and fate seems to want to laugh at him.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, CT-7567 | Rex & Anakin Skywalker, Jango Fett/Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 116
Kudos: 474





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I hadn't planned to post this yet but my brain said "fuck it we want to share this". Don't expect regular updates, at least until I'm done with one of my long fics. Snippets and progress updates on my Tumblr, under the same username.
> 
> This is typically a "things get worse before they get better fic". Eventual Mando'a translations in the end notes.

Obi-Wan watched as his reckless Padawan jumped and landed, stabbing behind himself, and caught his blade with his own. He could feel Anakin’s elation through their training bond, simple joy and pride filtering back to him. Anakin’s skills with a lightsabre had only been getting better and better, though the same couldn’t be said for his brash arrogance. He countered Anakin’s Djem-so with Soresu, catching his blade again and again as it collided loudly with his own. He couldn’t say he wasn’t enjoying himself, either.

But then, suddenly, there was a shift in the Force. He couldn’t say what it was or from where it originated, but it coalesced around his Padawan and attracted the attention of all the Jedi training in the room with them.

“Anakin?” he asked, pulling back.

The colour drained from Anakin’s face, his blade disappearing, and his Padawan fell to his knees. Obi-Wan launched himself at him, catching him just before he could sprawl entirely, his eyes closed and skin shining with sweat. Through the bond, Obi-Wan could tell Anakin was unconscious – he just couldn’t tell from _what_.

“Anakin? Someone get a Healer!” he called, and a Padawan ran to the Halls.

Master Naavri was there not long after and they took Anakin to the Halls of Healing. But nothing could be found, and Anakin remained unconscious.


	2. Unravelling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anakin takes the first very necessary step of his journey back into the Light.

Standing by his Master’s side into the Force, Anakin smiled at his son with gratefulness and pride, letting himself fade and disperse into the Force…

Only to be slammed back into a physical form. There wasn’t pain, exactly, but it was _weird_. He could tell he was in significantly less pain than he’d been in the past twenty years, and laying on a bed. Slowly, Anakin blinked and opened his eyes. The lights were dimmed, meaning it was night, and…

He gasped, overwhelmed by the feel of the Force, strong of thousands of Jedi, Light mapping the way, and slapped his hand over his mouth before he could cry out. He had forgotten how it felt. The sound of flesh hitting flesh got his attention, and he pulled his hand away, peering in curiosity and terror at his limb of flesh, instead of artificial. His skin was smooth, unmarked, and he apparently had all his limbs.

Slowly, carefully, he sat up, and nearly threw himself out of the bed when he recognized his old Master sleeping awkwardly in an armchair by his bedside. Except Obi-Wan wasn’t the old man he’d last seen on the Death Star, but the young man with reddish blond hair he’d known for most of his life. He looked unkept, tired and worn, though, his sleep distinctly uneasy in the Force.

Anakin didn’t dare to understand the logical conclusion his mind had come to. He couldn’t have this kind of luck, could he? A chance to do it all again, before he did _anything_ truly worthy of the Dark Side… He called a comm to his hand – the pad at his bedside said that he’d been there for five days, unconscious, for apparently no reason at all. He guessed having your spirit pulled from the Force and thrown back into the past would do that to the body, but he doubted anyone would believe anything like this.

The date told him he was currently eighteen, and the feel of his Padawan braid on his shoulder was… comforting. He hadn’t had it in so long, but now he was back and- Force. Force, he was back in the Temple, and _everyone_ was alive. And he knew. He knew everything. A knot formed in his throat at the thought of the younglings he’d slaughtered, alive and hale – or, well, maybe not as many wouldn’t even be born yet.

And then he thought of Palpatine – Sidious, really – the traitor disguised as a mentor and a friend who had made everything a mess and manipulated him from the start. With the experience he had, he knew that even now, there were traces of a fledgling apprenticeship bond between the two of them, and he _needed it out_. He needed to think, he needed…

His eyes fell on his clothes, folded carefully on a chair beside his bed, his lightsabre on them. He’d never been very good at sitting still and meditating, but no one said he had to meditate the traditional way. A meditation of the blade would be just as good to help him regain his footing. Carefully, so he didn’t make any sound, he pulled on his clothes and hooked his ‘sabre to his belt.

Obi-Wan was still sleeping, and no one had noticed he was awake. He looked at his Master again. Force, but he’d been so young. Anakin felt a deep well of affection swell in his chest at the sight of the man who had been his father, his brother, his best-friend – the man he’d betrayed, and for what? _Nothing_. Padmé had died anyway, and in the last years of his life, he had understood a terrible truth: the Emperor had taken her life-force to feed his. He should never have survived, not with the wounds he had, and she shouldn’t have died of simple _heartbreak_. She was strong.

He gently brushed a strand of hair from his Master’s face, tucking it behind his ear, and watched him sigh and turn, unconsciously relaxing at his touch. Anakin checked his shields – strong and elaborate, not likely to let anything spill – and stalked out of the Halls, walking in the shadows and projecting a strong Notice-me-not. But Force was having a body young and healthy strange. He’d forgotten how bendy he could be, how light on his feet, how silent.

There weren’t many Jedi roaming the corridors at night, and none noticed him. He made it to the training salles unhindered. There, he dropped his robes and took his lightsabre in hand, breathing deeply. It ignited, a deep, satisfying blue that warmed his bones after so long holding red, the kyber singing softly to him instead of screeching in pain. He started simply, with Shii-cho katas to warm up his body, which was fairly stiff from his stunt in the Healing wards, and not yet as strong and muscled as he’d known it to be. It was on the last dredges of adolescence, but not out of it yet – still growing and getting strong.

Then, from Shii-cho, he went on with his favoured Djem-so, losing himself into the well-known forms and letting his mind sink into the Force. He was now convinced that it wasn’t just a dream, and he intended to take full advantage of that. Killing Sidious before he could bring destruction upon the galaxy was, of course, his first goal, but he was no longer as arrogant where it concerned the Sith Master. In single combat, he held no chance of winning. He needed time, and he needed a plan. Having Obi-Wan’s help would have been good, but he doubted his Master would believe him. It seemed quite unbelievable, in fact.

“Curiosity is not the Jedi way”, he called out, ending his movement and dropping out of his meditation, calmer than he’d been.

He still lacked a real plan, but he intended to keep his ‘time-travel’ a secret for the moment. Slowly, he turned, disengaging his ‘sabre, and stared back at Mace Windu who’d been standing there for a moment, silent and still.

“And yet, the Code says ‘There is no ignorance, there is knowledge’”, Master Windu replied, his eyes dark and shields tight.

Anakin had never managed to get a read on him, and that apparently hadn’t changed.

“I doubt the Healers would approve”, the Master resumed. “Weren’t you unconscious in their care these past few days?”  
“It would seem so”, Anakin replied. “And yet I’m feeling perfectly fine.”  
“Would you mind sparring with me, then?”

Anakin reminded himself that he was, technically, still a Padawan, and he bowed respectfully.

“It would be an honour, Master Windu.”

He took his opening stance, and watched as the Master did the same. It had been a really, really long time since he last had the opportunity to duel the Head of the Order. He let himself slide into the Force, and attacked. Master Windu met him head on, their blades clashing – blue against purple, swinging fast and hitting hard, as they met again and again. Anakin couldn’t get an advantage on Windu, but he wasn’t exactly surprised. Not only did Windu master the vapaad, he was also a duellist on par with Obi-Wan. And Anakin knew entirely too well how his Master held the high ground when it came to them.

But he could hold his own against him, and make it a worthy fight. Just because he knew how it would end, didn’t mean he had to make it easy. Master Windu wasn’t holding back anymore. He had been, with the first few strikes, but now he was genuinely fighting as best as he could. His focus blazed through the Force, the confusion of the first moments replaced by sheer determination. Anakin didn’t know how long they fought, but it was long enough to get him drenched in sweat. The duel ended, without any surprise, with him on his back and Master Windu’s blade at his neck.

“Sola”, Anakin called, and Master Windu disengaged his blade, before offering him a hand up.  
“Obi-Wan said you had progressed lately.”

Anakin shoved down the urge to explode in hysteric laughter. He only had a Knighting, a Padawan and twenty years of experience in the Dark Side to account for.

“I work hard to be worthy of his teachings”, Anakin replied. “Thank you for the spar, Master Windu. It was most enlightening.”

Master Windu was staring back at him, and Anakin could guess he had quite a few questions – and probably didn’t know how to go about it. Was it a genuine will to help, or worry for the shatterpoints he could see around him, the Darkness he’d always seen in his future?

“You have changed, Padawan Skywalker. What happened?”  
“Nothing happened”, Anakin replied, entirely too hastily.

Master Windu’s eyebrows went up in disbelief, and Anakin bit back a sigh. He knew now that he could – should – have trusted the High Council, but there were many bad memories. Could he really trust-

He frowned. What part of this was genuine mistrust from being scared and constantly observed as a child, and what was Sith tempering? It was split-second decision, just like most of his were.

“I need your help, Master Windu.”

The Master clearly hadn’t expected that, but his stance relaxed into something more open. Something… _pleased_.

“I am… concerned by something I found in my mind. It has escaped my notice for far too long, and I’m afraid it has hidden itself from my Master. I require your help to… uproot it, as it is.”

This time, the Master clearly grew concerned.

“Come with me”, he said.

Anakin pulled his robe back on and lifted his hood to hide his face, and followed the Master into one of the meditation chambers. They sat down there, Anakin feeling his heart in his throat but determined to continue. He wouldn’t keep Sidious in his mind – it was out of question. Carefully, he locked all he’d learnt from his stunt in the future in a part of his mind, settling into meditation and feeling Master Windu do the same.

Then, his hands placed palms up in Master Windu’s open ones and feeling him gently tap at his shields to request entrance, he lowered them just enough to let the Master inside. It was strange, to welcome someone in his mind after so long. Sidious didn’t request entrance, he simply tore down walls and took what he wanted.

_Show me what you saw_ , Master Windu said.

Slowly, carefully, Anakin guided him into a corner of his mind, instinctive and mostly hidden away – and there, Darkness festered. He felt queasy just looking at the fledgling, and _kark_ , already active, if dormant, bond. It hadn’t become fully active until after Anakin had taken the name Vader, but its simple presence made him want to throw up. He carefully added another layer of shields on his side of the bond, unwilling to let Palpatine know the slightest thing about what was going on, and carefully peeled away the layers the Sith had put in place to hide it from anyone who didn’t already know it was there.

He distinctively felt Windu’s ripple of shock, disgust and horror when the Master recognized the pulsing Darkness for what it was – a non-consensual training bond, already mostly complete. And yet, he could tell said horror was on his behalf, and not directed at him. The twisted feel of the bond was enough to tell any Force-sensitive that Anakin had never wanted it.

_Force, Padawan_ , he simply breathed. _This is above my knowledge and strength. Let me get Master Yoda here, we’re not leaving you with this any longer than necessary._

Anakin felt him withdraw, but didn’t back out himself. Meditating was already hard enough, he wasn’t doing that again. Instead, he looked at the writhing bond, resisting the urge to poke it. Its anchoring points were deep, bolstered by years of trust and manipulation. It was an absolutely repulsive thing, a twisted mimic of the bond he shared with his Master – nurtured by just as many years of active trust and love, reinforced by the both of them and the things they lived together. He unshielded said bond just enough to get a feel of Obi-Wan, who was still sleeping, before he felt two presences tap at his shields.

Carefully bundling up his fear and putting it away to be dealt with later, even if he’d learnt the hard way that _this_ was not a good idea, he let Master Windu and Master Yoda back in, guiding them again to the black mass of anguish and pain settled in the back of his mind. The deep shock he felt from Master Yoda told him exactly what he needed to know: the Grand-Master knew _exactly_ what this was.

_Painful, unravelling it will be, Padawan_ , the Grand-Master warned him.

Anakin couldn’t keep back his bitter laugh.

_I can endure it. Please, I want it out._

The two Masters settled, and got down to work. Anakin could do nothing but keep himself out of their way as they slowly started to unwind the bond, thinning it to a trickle until it was barely a thread. Remained the anchors, sunken deep, and with them would come pain. They pulled at one and the Darkness writhed and lashed out, pain lancing through Anakin’s mind, blinding. Bolstered by the reaction and Anakin’s determination to keep calm and hold steady against the pain, they started to rip out the anchors, one by one, until there was nothing left but a mess of rips in Anakin’s mind. Light pulsed, soothing, helping the pain that had settled in his bones now, pulling the rips back together and leaving only scars behind. Then, their presences pulled out and Anakin breathed, slowly coming back to himself.

There was a headache pulsing behind his ears, burning behind his eyes, when he blinked his eyes open. There was sunlight filtering through the blinds, telling him they were at it for most of the night. He then recognized the incessant tapping for what it was: Obi-Wan frantically trying to get his attention. He lowered his shields over the bond, just enough to send his position to his Master, and pulled them back up again. His head was already hurting, he didn’t need the connection to add to it.

“A headache, you probably have. Sleep, you should, and talk, we will, when you are better.”

Anakin blinked hazily, barely recognizing Master Yoda, and nodded sluggishly before his consciousness faded away completely.


	3. Mouth running away

_The flames licked at his clothes, pain flaring as it ate his flesh and he dragged himself up. Obi-Wan – the traitor who once called himself his Master, the one who had taken_ everything _from him, was staring back at him. Hate flared as the pain became unescapable, flames covering his body, his eyes burning, tasting ash in his mouth._

_“I HATE YOU!”_

_Disgust-_

No, no, you’re wrong, this is heartbreak, absolute heartbreak, he never hated you, he could never hate you-

_Disgust pulled at Obi-Wan’s features, and he did nothing to end his suffering, watching him_ BURN ALIVE.

_“You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you.”_

_LIAR. LIAR, YOU FUCKING LIAR, HOW DARE YOU. YOU WOULD KILL ME IF YOU DID._

_He groaned, too weakened to scream as pain engulfed everything._

Anakin’s eyes flew open and he sat up violently, his heart pounding.

“OBI-WAN”, he screamed before he could stop himself, and immediately there were cool, soothing hands reaching for his face, stroking his forehead and his cheeks in obvious devotion.

Trembling, he turned. In the light of the day, seeing Obi-Wan hale and young was another matter entirely. Anakin stared at him for a second, struck speech-less, before he launched himself into his arms and buried his face in his chest, howling in anguish. His fingers grabbed the tabards tightly, unwilling, unable to let got and sobs wracked his frame – decades of hurt pouring out, pleas for forgiveness trying to make it out of his throat but only making themselves known as violent sobs.

“Shh- I’m here, Padawan, I’m here, and you’re safe. Everything is alright.” A choked intake of breath, and Obi-Wan resumed, his voice breaking as he held him tight. “Force, Anakin, I thought I’d lost you.”  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry Master, I’m sorry, I couldn’t- _I’m sorry_ ”, a gulp, a heavy sob, “I never wanted this, I’m so sorry Master, how could you ever forgive me-”  
“There is nothing to forgive, Anakin”, Obi-Wan replied, holding him safe and steady, “you haven’t done a thing wrong.”

_You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you._

Unsaid words torn his heart apart again, and he dissolved into pained whimpers, Obi-Wan petting his hair and soothing him. Slowly, Anakin managed to pull himself back together. Obi-Wan handed him a tissue for his nose, and wetted a cloth in cold water to clean up his face and soothe his burning eyes. Anakin felt too wrecked to even want to push his hands away, and he slowly looked up to see him.

There was concern and love in his Master’s eyes, but years of worry, of loss, grief and sleepless nights weren’t yet etched into his skin. Anakin breathed slowly, gathering himself, and finally pulled away.

“Force, I was so worried when I woke up and you weren’t there”, Obi-Wan said softly. “How are you feeling?”  
“I’m fine”, Anakin replied weakly. “Thirsty, I think. A small headache, but it’s better.”  
“Here”, he said, handing him a glass of water. “Slowly.”

The water was cool and it soothed his parched throat, easing his tension and worries. It had never ceased to do so. Water had been a comfort back on Tatooine, and it was still one years later. He closed his eyes when he felt Obi-Wan’s hand gently cupping his head. He missed this – for some reason, Obi-Wan stopped doing that as he grew older. As though because he was growing up, he didn’t need the physical comfort anymore.

“Master Windu said he found you doing a blade meditation in the training salles”, his Master said.  
“Yeah”, he replied, gulping. “I needed… I needed to meditate.”

To his surprise, Obi-Wan humphed and smiled.

“It’s better than not meditating at all”, Obi-Wan justified. “I know you struggle with keeping yourself still.”

Anakin thought of Vader – his constant pacing despite the weight of his suit, his wiggling in his pressurized chamber, even when he was all stumps and could barely move – and snorted. No, he really wasn’t made to stand still. His fingers itched when he did – that, and the Force was always screaming at him in one way or another. He looked up and met Obi-Wan’s gaze.

“Master Yoda and Master Windu wouldn’t tell me what they were doing with you in the middle of the night”, his Master said. “Dare I hope that you didn’t get yourself in trouble?”

Suddenly, his throat and mouths were dry, and he gulped difficultly, wincing.

“I- I don’t think so”, he replied carefully, “but you’re not gonna like it. I asked Master Windu for help.”

Obi-Wan’s surprise and disbelief coloured the Force. Not that Anakin expected a reaction any different, it was just as shocking for him after all, but this time he knew he’d made the right call. Given the two Masters’ difficulties with tearing the bond to shreds, he would have had no chance of doing this by himself, Knight or not.

“I’m glad you felt you could trust him. They wanted to see you once you were recovered.”

Anakin grimaced.

“I don’t suppose I can pretend I’m dead? I’m good at that.”

He felt Obi-Wan’s amusement through their bond.

“I doubt it would work”, his Master replied. “If the Healers discharge you, we might be able to gain some time by getting you to shower and change your clothes.”  
“Are you saying that I stink?” Anakin asked, feigning offense.  
“Yes”, Obi-Wan replies curtly, and Anakin nearly bursts out laughing.

The Obi-Wan from the war was definitely less delicate, that was for sure. On the other hand, he passed out in sweat-damp clothes, he had to stink, and a shower wouldn’t be amiss. Bant wasn’t long to come and, upon seeing he really was alright and there was nothing strange in his results, she agreed to let him go on the condition that he ate something. Seeing as he was starving, he certainly wouldn’t complain about that order.

He spent a long time under the shower, relishing in it. More than twenty years without anything other than sponge baths given by medical droids and bacta submersion, he really was due for a real, water shower. He took his time re-braiding his wet hair, sliding the pearls on as he went. It had been even longer since he last had a Padawan braid. When he finally came out, his clothes carefully put on, Obi-Wan had prepared a light breakfast and was waiting for him in the small kitchen of their shared apartment.

“I figured it was better if you ate something light now, and something more sustaining when they’re done torturing you”, Obi-Wan joked, and Anakin hid a wince.

A bit too close to the truth for comfort. He munched on the toast and realized he’d forgotten the taste of it, of something as simple as toasted bread spread with butter. He realized he was starving despite the knot in his stomach, and that it had been over twenty years since he really lived. Obi-Wan was right: Anakin died that day on Mustafar. What he lived was not a life, as much as it was a purgatory of a hellish sort. His fingers clenched a bit too hard, and his toast crumbled in his palm.

“Kriff”, he swore as crumbs fell all over the table.

Obi-Wan served tea for both of them, and he’d missed that as well, even though he never really liked tea. He couldn’t stop himself from breathing it in, letting the warmth of the mug seep into his fingers, so like his Master. His Master, who cared for him when he was barely out of his childhood himself, who made him his top one priority and protected him from everyone and everything – aside from the only person he couldn’t: himself.

“Master”, he said softly, because he _needed_ to say. He couldn’t let it go unsaid like before. “Thank you, for everything you did for me. I know it wasn’t easy to take me on as your Padawan when you were barely a Knight yourself, and I haven’t made your life any easier. But you’ve always…” His voice broke, and he breathed to compose himself. “You’ve always been there for me and trusted me when no one else would, even when you shouldn’t have, and I’ve never been as grateful as I should have been. Thank you.”

Obi-Wan had been struck speechless, but Anakin could feel his emotions flooding in through their bond. Confusion, mostly, but happiness and worry too. Then, something seemed to settle in him, and Obi-Wan reached forward to grab his nape.

“Oh, Anakin.”

Obi-Wan smiled, but couldn’t find anything else to say. He had never expected such stark honestly in Anakin’s gratefulness, and was totally unprepared to face it. They took a moment of silence together, and then made their way to the meditation chamber where the two masters were waiting for them. If Obi-Wan was nervous, he was hiding it well. Anakin, on the other hand, had long gotten used to the privacy of a helmet. Obi-Wan opened the door: Master Yoda and Master Windu were there, already sitting. Obi-Wan bowed and so did Anakin, before stepping forward and settling themselves in front of them.

“Better, do you feel, Padawan?” Yoda asked, concern clear on his face. “Painful it was for you.”  
“Nothing I couldn’t deal with”, Anakin assured him truthfully.

Force Lightning was far worse, but there was a distinct place in his mind for burning alive. Not many things reached such a level of pain, and after twenty years of constant pain, he could quite easily say his pain threshold was up through the roof.

“Painful?” Obi-Wan asked, tensing. “Why…”  
“We will explain”, Master Windu assured him. “Padawan Skywalker, do you know what is was that you found?”

Anakin considered lying for a grand total of ten seconds, but it was no use – not when they were genuinely trying to help him.

“Yes, Master Windu”, he replied, not daring to look at him.

There was a ripple of surprise from the Harun Kal master, but not from Yoda. Anakin looked at him.

“Know what it was, Master Windu did not. Know this, you do. How?”

Anakin settled for the explanation he’d selected, even though it usually attracted him the ire and contempt of many masters.

“I had a vision, Master Yoda.”

The look in Master Yoda’s eyes told him the little green troll didn’t quite believe that, but wouldn’t call it a blatant lie either. Yoda hummed, and pocked his leg with his gimmer stick.

“Tell us more, Padawan.”

Anakin hesitated. There wasn’t much he could safely say. They wouldn’t believe him, and if they did- he knew the Jedi weren’t ready to face such a threat as Sidious. They would only get themselves killed, and then, who would stop the Sith?

“I’d like to know what is going on before we go any further”, Obi-Wan interrupted, giving him a reprieve. “Please understand: my Padawan collapsed for no reason we could find, woke up to do a blade meditation, and when I tried to find him, it was to discover he’d lost consciousness again. And now you’re talking about pain and visions. What is going on?”  
“Your Padawan asked for my help after we duelled”, Master Windu replied, stern as ever. “Help, to uproot something he’d found in his mind that he couldn’t dispose of himself. I agreed, but upon seeing the problem, even though I didn’t know what it was exactly, I knew it wasn’t in my power to do this alone. I then asked Master Yoda for his help. We managed to do what was required, but it asked a lot from all three of us, and was excruciatingly painful for Skywalker, no matter how much he downplays it.”

Obi-Wan’s knuckles were white on his knees, and Anakin couldn’t bear to look at him.

“What was it? How could such a thing even happen, I never felt anything- I should have-”

Yoda slammed his gimmer stick into Obi-Wan’s legs, and Anakin nearly snickered.

“See this, you could not have. To deal with it, you are no strong or knowledgeable enough yet. That it was found, close to a miracle it was. Know of this, Skywalker shouldn’t have.”

Anakin couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer.

“It was a Force-bond, Master”, he spilled out. “A Dark bond, made and strengthened without my consent or knowledge.” He closed his eyes, the horror of his memories assaulting his senses. _Rise, Lord Vader_. “A training bond, between a Sith Master and an Apprentice.”

Shock and horror flooded their bond, along with a disbelief that was only denial, and not mistrust of Anakin and what he’d gone through. This time, Obi-Wan couldn’t keep his calm. He stood up, pacing, his anger boiling over.

“Are you telling me that the Sith Master I’ve been tracking for years and been unable to find as chosen you as their Apprentice? How have you even been in contact with the Sith Master? I-”  
“He’s a master at deception and hiding, Master”, Anakin cried out desperately. “He cannot be found unless he wants to be. Force, last time he had to reveal himself to me and-”

His eyes grew wide when he realized just what he’d said, and he rose up, running to the nearest ‘fresher to throw up and gasp for breath. _No no no no no_. He couldn’t lose control like that, not yet.

“ANAKIN!”

His Master, banging the door open and kneeling by his side, holding his shoulders as he tried to talk himself down from a panic attack. He threw up again, trembling at the thought of everything he had to lose. He felt a clawed hand at the back of his head, and darkness fell upon him.


	4. Deliberation

Obi-Wan caught Anakin when he slumped, Yoda’s Force-suggestion easily piercing through his shattered shields to put him to sleep. Gently, he washed his mouth, holding him close. He was trembling himself with the force of his Padawan’s terror and grief, along with the terrifying revelations made to him.

“Let him sleep some more, we will”, Master Yoda said with a nod. “Much to discuss, we have.”

Anakin was brought back to their quarters and left to sleep it off, and Obi-Wan, trying to bring himself back to the calm of a Jedi Master, settled himself back down with the two Masters.

“None of this makes sense”, he whispered.  
“Something happened”, Master Windu said. “Something big. There are still many shatterpoints around Padawan Skywalker, but they are not the same as they were before he collapsed. I would even be hesitant to call him Padawan any longer.”  
“His duel with you, open your eyes, it has”, Master Yoda nodded. “No longer a Senior Padawan, Skywalker is. At least, a Jedi Knight in skill and spirit. Possibly, a Jedi Master. Happen to him, terrible things did.”  
“Wha- Master Yoda, my Padawan is _eighteen_.”  
“And recognize a Dark Force-bond, he did”, Yoda hammered down.  
“Everyone who was there when he collapsed the first time witnessed a great shift in the Force”, Master Windu said.

They took a moment to meditate and clear their thoughts, and Obi-Wan’s eyes blinked open, his fear receding and his concern growing. Anakin’s words to him were less comforting and more frightening, in light of his recent breakdown.

“He said ‘last time, he had to reveal himself to me’”, Obi-Wan repeated, and sucked in a breath. “He knows who the Sith Master is.”

Yoda hummed.

“And say nothing, he will”, he added. “Frightened he is. Feeling guilty, he was, and yet, nothing wrong, he did.”  
“This makes no sense whatsoever”, Obi-Wan protested. “What could he possibly have seen?”  
“A vision, I doubt it was”, Yoda replied. “But explain it otherwise, he probably couldn’t. Understand what happened, he does not.”

Master Windu nodded.

“A vision, no matter how complex, wouldn’t allow for such a translation of skill and power. He could possibly have learned things about himself or the future, but not improved his lightsabre skills as to rival with me.”  
“Then what in the Force happened?!” Obi-Wan asked, frightened by the prospect.  
“Know this, we do not”, Yoda said, regret tainting his voice. “Struggling, Skywalker is. Say anything strange to you, he has?”

Obi-Wan frowned.

“As a matter of fact, yes. Before he woke up, he was having a nightmare… a pretty rough one, because he kept mumbling and moaning, and he woke up screaming for me. And then, when he saw me, he kept apologizing… and he asked me how I could forgive him. And later, once he was in his right mind… he thanked me for teaching him. Saying… Making me out as if I were a much better person than I am.”

Master Yoda’s gimmer stick connected harshly with his shin, and he nearly yelped.

“A good person, you are. Know this, your Padawan does.”

Mace frowned. The shatterpoints had changed, and in itself, it was pretty significative.

“It is as though he faced some kind of very harsh trial. Like he has seen the Darkness he is capable of, and got desperately frightened by it.”  
“Could it be from that… sick thing of a training-bond?” Obi-Wan asked.

Mace glanced at Yoda, frowning.

“It could be linked”, he allowed. “It could be that he saw what he would become if that bond had come to fruition. It would certainly explain his apologies and his gratefulness to you.”

Obi-Wan’s face crumpled in grief. To know that one was capable of Darkness was one thing, but to _see_ it… or worse, to _live_ it, was not something he wished on anyone. And especially not his Padawan, the dear boy he’d raised all these years.

“Force”, he breathed. “What… What can I do?”  
“Your duty as a Master”, Yoda replied sternly. “Listen. Teach. Correct his ways where he goes wrong. Stubborn, your Padawan is. Until he decides to speak, useless it is to harass him. Know this, I do.”  
“So, wait and see? Alright.” A breath. “Alright. I will do as I must. I-” There was a flutter in his mind, and he blinked. “He has woken up.”


	5. The Lesson on Attachment

Anakin woke up in his Padawan room at the Temple. It was… disturbingly familiar, and yet jarringly strange. It’d been so, so long since he last slept there. He’d had to move out of Obi-Wan’s place when he got Ahsoka as his Padawan – though, technically, he should have cleared out before that, when he got Knighted. They were rarely enough on Coruscant for it to matter.

He closed his eyes, gulping as he remembered what he’d just blurted out at the Masters. Now they would grill him, for sure. He slipped out of his bed, checked his surroundings for Obi-Wan – he was coming back, but not there yet – and opened the keep-cool, scrounging up a sandwich which he destroyed in two bites before making his way out of the quarters and into the wider Temple. He needed to think, and he needed not to be found. And he knew exactly where to go. Striding through the Temple and actively avoiding Obi-Wan, but not running – running attracted attention – he went to the Room of a Thousand Fountains, slid his rebreather in his mouth and slipped out of most of his clothes, tucking them under a bush and seamlessly diving into one of the deepest pools.

That was actually a place he wasn’t likely to be searched for, unlike many of his other hides. The water felt comforting, after the years of being stiffly held in a suit of armour or dipped in bacta, and he swam deeper, hiding himself from the light and easily finding a corner to tuck himself into and meditate. He slowed down his breathing, closed his eyes and focused on what he was feeling, calming down almost immediately. The Force felt so bright it was nearly blinding. He had… missed it. Swiftly, he tucked his presence into the folds of the Force, disappearing from it, brushing against Force-presences he knew – Plo Koon, Shaak Ti, Siri Tachi, Quinlan Vos, T’ra Saa, Tholme, Bant, Yaddle, and so many others.

His mind was his own. Finally. For the first time in… who knew how many years, who knew how long Sidious had had this bond with him. He relished in the _peace_ he found in his own mind, where there had been only doubt and turmoil. Oh, there was still a huge mess in there, but for the first time in forever, he finally felt like he could actually deal with it. He brushed against the memory of his son. Luke, brave, bright Luke – the Jedi he should have been. Strong in the face of abject darkness, believing to the end that he could be saved. Luke had _faith_ , even when Obi-Wan had lost his – which had taken the slaughtering of the Temple to do. 

He was not touching that yet. Not the memories he had of the younglings crying out for help, of thousands of Force-lights snapping out of existence, of-

_“Master Skywalker! There are too many of them! What we are going to do?"_

_Tiny lives disappearing with a sweep of his lightsabre, little bodies falling down with charred holes in them, the disgusting smell of burnt flesh filling the Council Chambers, and the Darkness spreading through him, his mind lost to madness, to the conviction that he was doing this for Padmé._

He pushed the feeling out into the Force. Not yet. Not yet. He might just fall on his lightsabre yet if he let himself think about that.

_There is no emotion, there is peace_ , he thought, trying to centre himself again. _There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force._ He had never found his peace within the mantra, but now, he knew something essential: the last one was true. And if that one was true, who was to say the other ones weren’t?

His thoughts went to Padmé – Padmé, his beloved wife, whom he’d betrayed in the worst manner, who loved him enough to know she couldn’t follow his path down into Darkness. Padmé, sweet, strong, stubborn, smart, _badass_ Padmé. His heart still beat strong at the thought of her. But… He’d hurt her, in his selfishness. Having seen his own son’s selfless love for his family and friends, he knew that in the end, what he’d felt for Padmé was a twisted, dark form of what it once was.

And he wasn’t sure he could still love her properly. Not after everything, and it destroyed him. What had they had, but a handful of moments at war – never spending more than a few days together? He couldn’t go down that road anymore. She deserved- Fuck, she deserved a true chance at happiness, and he had to admit to himself that… it didn’t lie with him. He couldn’t bring her the happiness he wanted her to have. _There is no passion, there is serenity_ – this was not about what existed or not, was it. There could be no serenity where there was passion, and he’d once let his passion rule his life. Not again. Never again. Passion wasn’t balance. He _was_ the Chosen One, meant to bring balance. He’d done it once, when he’d thrown Palpatine down the reactor shaft. He could do it again, hopefully before he brought the entire fucking _galaxy_ down with him.

That would mean denying Luke and Leia their chance to ever exist. Could he sacrifice two lives for the sake of billions of others?

It should have been a simple question, but it wasn’t. He’d faced this choice once before, and he’d chosen Padmé and their unborn child over thousands of Jedi, over his own Master, his own Padawan. He’d chosen, and he’d lost, and condemned the galaxy.

He needed- He needed her counsel. He needed to hear her voice.

_It’s time to come back, Padawan_ , a voice called.

He brought his consciousness back and opened his eyes, finding himself facing Master Fisto. Who wasn’t yet on the Council, of course. The Nautolan Master was eyeing him with curiosity and warmth.

“Given that the Masters are looking for you everywhere, I assume you’re hiding”, Kit said.

_How long?_ Anakin signed, the rebreather keeping him from speaking.

“You’ve been gone for close to five hours, Padawan. I have never seen Master Yoda look so worried, nor your Master so desperate. That’s a neat trick, by the way, hiding your Force-presence as you are. Now, how about you help them get back some measure of serenity and come back up with me?”

Saying that, the Nautolan offered him a hand. A simple gesture, but one no other had dared to impart before. Anakin gulped past the lump in his throat and reached for him with trembling fingers. Kit’s hand was cooler than his own, but it was not unpleasant. It radiated with warmth – _don’t think about his body sprawled in the Chancellor’s office. Don’t think about it, don’t_ \- he broke down into anguished tears and he felt a bolt of surprise from Kit, who awkwardly drew him into his arms and kicked his feet to get them up and out of the water.

The Master Jedi managed to manoeuvre to sit down on the edge, keeping Anakin close and plucking the rebreather from his mouth to let him take in harsh gulps of fresh air, his tall frame still wracked with sobs as he lost control over his presence and radiated disquiet through the Force. Worriedly, Kit shooed away a few stragglers who were watching with their eyes wide and called Anakin’s robes to his hand, draping them over his shoulders. He had no doubt the Masters searching for the wayward Padawan would find him now.

“Breathe, Skywalker. There, slowly. You’re doing good.”  
“ANAKIN”, came Obi-Wan’s anguished cry as he ran up to them, dropping to his knees beside his Padawan. “Are you hurt?! Where were you?”  
“Deep in meditation”, Kit answered. “I had to reach into the Force to bring him back.”  
“ _Underwater?!”_  
“Underwater”, Kit nodded. “And completely hidden in the Force.” He dropped his voice. “It was… very strange. He looked at me and it was as though he was looking at someone else.”  
“You were _dead_ ”, came Anakin’s reply in between his sobs, “you were dead and it was _my fault_.”

Understanding lit Kit’s dark eyes, and he gently rubbed Anakin’s scalp.

“But I’m not dead, am I? I don’t feel dead, at least. Do I look dead to you?”

Anakin shook his head, his arms draped around himself, shivering. Obi-Wan drew closer, putting a hand on his back, trying to soothe him through the Force.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened, so I know what to look out for?” Kit asked again.

Anakin snorted and looked up, chuckling wetly.

“If Master Windu ever asks you to come with him to arrest a Sith Lord, don’t go.”  
“Well that’s… oddly specific”, Kit replied, blinking slowly. “I’ll refrain from fighting Sith Lords. It doesn’t seem to complicated.”  
“It wasn’t a fight”, Anakin whispered. “There wasn’t a fight. Half of the council went to confront him, and only Master Windu stood after mere _seconds_.” He seemed to be lost in his memories, eyes strained on the water. “And his death is on me too.”

Obi-Wan shivered at what he implied.

“Anakin”, he said softly. “Master Windu is very much alive, I assure you. There is no wrong to correct. You did nothing wrong.”

Anakin was standing, radiating fury and anguish into the Force before he was done talking, and staring down at them.

“I did _nothing_ wrong? You forgive things you don’t remember, things you _couldn’t_ forgive, things you _shouldn’t_ forgive! _Your_ hands aren’t bathed in the blood of entire _peoples_! You walk through the Temple and don’t see dead people looking back at you! Your ears aren’t ringing with the cries of the younglings, you didn’t betray _everything_ you ever stood for!”

He was shaking and, in the gardens, everything that wasn’t bolted down was now floating around. His tears still ran freely, his eyes wide and haunted as he slowly fell to his knees.

“Why didn’t you kill me”, he whispered. “Why didn’t you kill me, Obi-Wan?”  
“I could never”, Obi-Wan whispered, terrified by the depths of hurt he could see, by how deep his Padawan’s wounds ran. “Anakin, I could never kill you.”

Anakin looked up and met his eyes, and Obi-Wan could see his words hadn’t brought the comfort he’d meant – all the opposite.

“I know”, Anakin replied brokenly. “If you couldn’t then…” He took in a shaky breath and wiped his hands over his face. Slowly, his presence drew back, objects going back down to their places, and he tightened his shields. “I’m sorry”, he murmured. “I’m trying, I’m trying to get better, to _do_ better.” He took in another deep breath. “ _There is no passion, there is serenity_.”

He startled when Kit put a hand over his, looking back at him.

“It is not about ignoring your feelings, Padawan. We would be nothing but machines if we did that. It is about taking the best decision you can, and think rationally, even when everything around you falls apart.”  
“Well I’m bad at all of this”, Anakin replied, gritting his teeth. “I’ve only ever been good at bottling things up.”  
“That’s… that’s incredibly unhealthy”, the Master replied. “But, it is not an easy path. We would know if it was. We wouldn’t train from our youngest years if it was. As for granting forgiveness… It is in the power of the one you wronged to grant it or deny it, but merely asking for it isn’t enough. Remorse is needed, and taking action to repair what you did is necessary. You seem to have plenty of the first, unneeded as it may seem to us. Now, the question is: what do you want to do, to be worthy of being forgiven?”

The calm, steady presence of the Nautolan Master, even in the face of everything, was like a balm to Anakin’s heart. Obi-Wan was distraught, and couldn’t help him much – but having him here was a big help still. He opened his mouth to answer, but was cut by Kit’s finger on his lips.

“You haven’t wronged me, Padawan Skywalker. There is nothing I could forgive you, unless you count scaring the hell out of me as wronging me. I don’t need you to tell me what reparations you intend to make. This is for you to know.”

Anakin nodded, and winced.

“Can I still say it? Voicing my thoughts always helped.”  
“Well then”, Kit replied with a smile, “go on.”  
“I will focus on becoming a better Jedi”, he said, “and shore up my defences up against the Dark Side. I will learn to manage my feelings better, and trust into the Force to guide me. I will…” He grimaced. “I will do my best to not become Attached. I will not”, he gulped, tears spilling again, “I will not reach out to Padmé. I will not talk to her, or rekindle our friendship, no matter how much I wish I could. I will devote some of my time to the younglings. I will strive for Balance.”  
“Sounds to me like you have a plan”, Kit said with a nod. “Now, how about you go home with your Master and get into some dry clothes before you catch a cold?”

Anakin nodded and stood up, letting Obi-Wan grab his arm to steady both of them. He turned as they were halfway out of the Room.

“Thank you, Master Fisto. You were a great help”, he said with a deep bow.

Kit smiled back, visibly pleased, and the two Jedi made their way back to the quarters they shared. Anakin was exhausted – from diving so deep into the Force, from trying to make sense of everything, from the feelings boiling inside of him.

“…I apologize for my words, Master. They lacked in respect, and I accused of faults that weren’t your own.”  
“Oh, Anakin”, Obi-Wan sighed. “Come here”, he said, drawing him into his arms, and Anakin sank into the hug, having missed such a simple contact. “Force, what happened to you, dear one?” Obi-Wan whispered, gently rubbing the back of his head.

Anakin’s fists tightened into the back of his tunics as he pressed his lips closed. He’d said more than enough already, he wasn’t saying anything more. But, there was one thing Obi-Wan needed to know.

“I Fell”, he whispered, barely a hush of voice, but Obi-Wan stilled anyway, before he resumed stroking his head.  
“There is only pain that way, Anakin”, Obi-Wan replied in a slightly louder whisper. “But you found that out the hard way, didn’t you? Let me help”, he whispered. “Let me help, Anakin.”

Anakin gulped pass the knot in his throat.

“I can’t lose you, Master”, he managed to get out through his clenched teeth. “I _can’t_.”

_There is no Death, there is the Force._


	6. Darkness on Um- Darkness on Coru- Where- Darkness.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin was good at keeping it together, until he wasn't, and everything came tumbling out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter I had almost completed before posting, but I'm already half-way through the following one, where Anakin will _finally_ get some of the needed help.  
> Also, everyone's stance is "gather all the pieces of intel Skywalker lets fall and we'll puzzle it out" because obviously that's a great idea.

Anakin slept again, for most of the day. He didn’t know whether it was from the exhaustion of all he was feeling, or if it was an after-effect of whatever brought him back there, and at this point he didn’t really care anymore. He was at least feeling a lot better when he got out of his bed again, and he found Obi-Wan meditating in the living-room. There was a cold mug of tea still wafting its fragrance in front of him, but Obi-Wan still opened his eyes as soon as he entered the room. His Master felt a lot calmer, and it put Anakin at ease.

“Hello, Padawan.”  
“Hello, Master”, Anakin replied, smiling, feeling like maybe he could start to have things normal again. “I’m going to the salle and train a bit”, he added, not quite an invitation – parts of him _wanted_ to spar with his Master, the other still remembered Mustafar quite too clearly.

Obi-Wan nodded.

“Maybe I’ll join you later.”

In the salle, Anakin found Master Koon practicing katas, and he relaxed at his memories of the Master – his warmth and care for the clones. He suspected that the Master had had plans to adopt his Wolfpack after the war, not like he was ever able to go through it, but… well, all the Pack was alive right now, and it was something easy enough to offer the Kel Dor master.

“Master Koon”, he greeted him, bowing deep, his Padawan braid falling from his shoulder. “Would you like to spar?”

Master Koon paused and turned to him, his presence curious and inquisitive. Anakin hoped news of his fits of temper and near-insanity hadn’t yet made it through the grapevine.

“I’d like to, but you only got out of the Healer’s Ward, didn’t you? Shouldn’t you rest?”

Ah, yes. He’d actually forgotten that what everyone actually _knew_ was that he’d been unconscious in the Halls of Healing.

“I’m fine”, he promised. “It was nothing.”

A blatant lie and the Master was very likely to pick up on it, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Master Koon nodded, and Anakin strode to place, grabbing his lightsabre, setting it to training strength and lighting it up. It fit weirdly into the palm of his hand, not powerful enough to feel satisfying, and he’d have to remedy that. He saluted, and attacked, twirling graciously and sending his ‘sabre colliding powerfully with Master Koon’s. The Master matched him blow for blow and it wasn’t long before Anakin had settled into a light meditation, his skill clearly showing. He didn’t notice the assembled Jedi who had stopped to observe, amongst which were Kit Fisto, Master Tholme and his very own Master. No one, include Master Koon himself, had expected him to hold on for that long. But… He’d been the one to complete the Purges, chasing wayward Jedi and exterminating them until very few of them were left. He had experience fighting other Jedi.

\- _Master Naavri, holding out how long as she could, but ultimately no match for him. She was a Healer, not a fighter, never a fighter._

_“Please!” she pleaded, “not the young ones! They aren’t a threat! Skywalker, oh, we’ve **lost** you!”_

_He didn’t answer, but skewered her on his ‘saber, the Dark Side tight around him as he turned on the younglings-_

Anakin stumbled and lifted his ‘sabre, panting harshly and blinking back tears. He hadn’t seen Master Naavri yet, for she had come from the Correllian Temple.

“ _Sola_ ”, he gasped out, letting his ‘sabre switch off and dropping it, swaying on his feet from the strength of the memory.

There were mumbles around him – he had been gaining ground, surrendering didn’t make sense – but Master Koon sheathed his lightsabre too and stepped towards him, the sheathed tips of his claws curling around his elbows to keep him stable.

“Do you need to see a Healer, Padawan Skywalker?” the Master asked in a steady, soothing voice.  
“I’m fine”, Anakin replied, blinking back tears, not even caring that it was a blatant lie.

He looked up, into the concealed eyes of the Kel Dor Master, and couldn’t hide his wince. He hadn’t killed Master Koon himself, no, but- He felt the guilt claw its way up from his stomach at the thought of the thousands of betrayed Jedi, of the _millions_ of clones already enslaved who had the very few they owned _ripped_ from them. At their names and personalities crushed under the might of the Sith, making them into mindless puppets who shot without hesitation at the very people whom they’d sworn to protect.

He flinched at the cool touch on his arm, and met Master Fisto’s dark eyes. The Nautolan Master was sending soothing waves to him, his smile gentle.

“More dead people?” he asked, glancing at Master Koon.

Anakin looked away, unable to hold his gaze.

“Master Fisto, there is no need to ask. Everyone I see is a dead person walking.”  
“Master Koon seems to be very much alive”, Kit replied.  
“Why in the Force did you stop your duel?” a voice boomed, and Anakin flinched as he recognized it.

A haze of red fell over his mind and he slowly turned, facing the large Besalisk who was standing there with two of his arms crossed, the two others gesturing animatedly.

“ _You_ ”, he snarled, and ignited his lightsabre, startling away the two Masters around him. “How _dare_ you. Killing my men for your own entertainment? To gain the favour of the Sith?” His hand shook with wrath around his lightsabre, the Force answering his call and draping itself like a cloak around him. “You were lucky last time, that they fell you with a single blaster bolt. I am not so merciful”, he growled, prowling forward, all his attention on the flailing Besalisk, forgetting completely the people around him, where he was, _when_ he was.

His hand curled and raised upwards, easily lifting Pong Krell by his neck and making him thrash in his Force-choke hold, tightening progressively as he had so often done.

“ANAKIN”, came the cry, anguished, startling him out of his anger, out of his single-minded focus. “Anakin _please_ calm down! You _know_ where the Dark Side leads… please.”

Everything came back at once, and he gasped, letting his hand and his ‘sabre fall. The Force roared in his ears as he released his hold, as the Dark Side yowled when he let go, stopped harnessing it to suit his will.

“I’m sorry”, he said, his voice cracking as he stared down at his own hands in horror.

He had barely done that that Master Fisto and Master Koon were grabbing his wrists and arms, holding him tightly, and he didn’t resist. Other Masters were helping Knight Krell up to his feet and taking him away, probably to the Halls of Healing, and his temper flared again at the sight of the Besalisk who had cost him so many good men. Master Tholme crossed quickly to him and pinched his chin to make him look up, and Anakin felt a wave of gratefulness: Master Tholme, along with his Padawan Quinlan Vos, was one of the Jedi who survived both Order 66 and the later Jedi hunt.

“You’ve touched Darkness, Padawan”, the Master said, not unkindly. “How did you reach for it so easily and yet you don’t feel tainted by it? That level of ease would be that of a Darksider, not a Jedi Padawan who has a fit of temper.”

Anakin felt a hysteric laugh bubble in his throat, which ultimately escaped, his grin turning feral and manic as he stared back at the Master.

“Try being a Sith Lord for twenty years and we’ll see how you fare resisting Darkness’ call”, he replied, cackling and unable to stop himself.

He felt a wave of horror from Obi-Wan, but at the moment, he was too over-whelmed to really care about technicalities: yes, Falling and becoming a Darksider wasn’t exactly on the same level as being a fully-fledged Sith Lord. Master Tholme gave him such a no-nonsense glare that his laughter redoubled, his fingers trembling and twitching as he lost control over himself.

“A Sith Lord, mh? For twenty years? When you’re not even twenty?”  
“Don’t believe that face”, Anakin replied, grinning sharply. “I’m way older than I look.”  
“Alright, then”, Master Tholme answered, crossing his arms, ignoring Master Fisto’s shuffling. “Tell me, Mister Dark Lord of the Sith, what is your purpose here?”

Anakin thrashed and bared his teeth.

“My name is _Anakin_ and I’m fucking trying not to fuck up everything again by Falling but as you can see so far it has been a _resounding_ success! I’m _not_ doing that again, I’m not letting that happen again, but Krell is making it _really, really_ hard to feel merciful.”  
“I’m not a fan of Knight Krell either, but his… unlikable personality isn’t enough to warrant a death sentence.”

Master Fisto looked at Master Tholme and told him to back off, turning his hard grip on Anakin into a gentler one.

“Tell me, Padawan. Given your words, you don’t seem to have killed him yourself last time, did you?” he asked in a steady voice, even though he was very likely just as confused as the others. “And if you have, I have a feeling you’re not feeling a lot of remorse over his death.”

Now it was Master Tholme’s turn to be confused. Master Koon was listening intently, piecing everything together but not saying a word nor relaxing his grip on Anakin. Obi-Wan hovered close, trying to soothe him through their bond.

Anakin growled.

“Kriffing _Umbara_. He killed _thousands_ of _my_ men, _my_ soldiers! He would have executed Jesse and Fives for fucking _doing their job_ and being absolute _heroes_ , would have just ordered their brothers to kill them! _Fuck_ , I despise him, trying to suck up to kriffing Count Dooku – and I’m not letting that bastard go either, beheading him once certainly wasn’t enough.”  
“That’s certainly no way to talk about your great-grandmaster”, Kit said, trying to parse through Anakin’s confused words. “Count Dooku may have left the Order, but he still deserves respect.”

Anakin laughed, a harsh, cruel sound that didn’t fit him at all.

“He’s a fucking Sith Apprentice! He cut off my arm! Fought Master Yoda!”  
“Now you’re going too far”, Master Tholme growled. “Count Dooku is a politician, not a Sith Lord! And you, young Padawan, have definitely reached for the Dark Side. So now you will let the Temple Guards take you down to the cell, and you will wait for the Council of Reconciliation.”

Anakin glared at him, but then he met his Master’s heartbroken gaze and froze. Looking down, unable to hold his gaze, he let two of the four Temple Guards who had come forward grab his arms and lead him deep into the Temple, to the old cells which hadn’t been in use since the end of the Sith War. The cell was simple – a cot, a ‘fresher, a small table – but the walls were made to dampen the Force to the point where he could barely feel it. After all, it was meant to keep Force-sensitives, it was only logical.

He sat down on the cot and closed his eyes, reaching for the Force to balance himself. He couldn’t exactly meditate deeply when he felt the Force so little, but he was trembling from the whole experience. He had hoped to get more adjusted, but everything kept on bringing him back to the war and the years after, serving the Emperor’s will with no regard for his own. Not that he’d really had one, not after losing Padmé. He had no idea how long he’d been there, but he was pretty sure several hours had passed, when the Temple Guards came, took him out of his cell only to put Force-dampening cuffs on him, and then guide him to the Council of Reconciliation.

He knew Master Rancisis and Master Koon held the two permanent seats, but he didn’t know who filled the other three seats for a five-years term. He wasn’t really surprised, when he stepped inside, to see Master Tholme. Master Windu was there, and if his memory served him right, only starting his term. He recognized the fifth Master as Ima-Gun Di, whom he only knew had died with his whole battalion during the war. He bowed and settled, waiting for them to talk.

“Padawan Skywalker”, Master Koon started. “Can you explain why you used the Dark Side on a Jedi Knight?”

Anakin licked his lips, wondering how to answer him. He didn’t want to be evicted from the Order, nor to be killed – not when he had so much to do – but he was also a mess with apparently no filter between his brain and his mouth, and he’d said so, so much more than he’d ever meant to.

“It is hard to get rid of the habit of a lifetime”, he finally replied. “I’m trying, but the Dark Side doesn’t let go easily.”  
“There is no coming back from the Dark Side”, Master Tholme replied, and Anakin gave him an incredulous look.  
“You dare say that kind of thing when you had Master Vos as your Padawan?” Anakin replied. “I’ve personally seen Master Billaba and Master Vos Fall, and then come back. Not without difficulties, but they did it anyway. And believe me, I’m feeling far better than I was during the twenty years I spent as Sith Lord.”

Master Windu frowned and leaned forward, stippling his fingers.

“Is this how you came to have this Dark training bond we removed?”

All the Masters stared at him like he’d grown a third head, and Anakin shook his head.

“You’ve got it backwards.” He steeled himself. He wouldn’t, couldn’t say _everything_ , but there still was a lot he could say. “The Sith Master spent close to a decade grooming me so I’d one day be his perfect apprentice, and to my immense regret, it worked. He built this bond without my consent, and when I first became aware of it, I welcomed it just as I accepted my Sith name.”  
“I think”, Master Koon said, “that you should start from the beginning. Last I knew, you’d had collapsed in the training halls.”

Anakin nodded.

“I called it a vision when I explained it to Master Yoda and Master Windu, but it was more than just a vision. I have lived all of this, died and joined with the Force, only to wake up in the Halls of Healing after, apparently, collapsing.” He gripped his own fingers tight under the cover of his sleeves. “Were it only a vision, there would have been no transfer of skill nor knowledge. I consider that I have been given a second chance, to do things right, and somewhat purged of the madness and Darkness that plagued me for so long, but my experiences are still my own.”

Master Windu nodded and settled back in his seat.

“Time travel. We had evoked such a possibility. There is no denying the distress it caused you. Please, elaborate.”

Anakin nodded.

“The conflict between the Separatists and the Republic only grew”, he said. “Which, in retrospective, isn’t surprising as the whole of it was planned by the Sith – the Master sitting in the Senate, and his Apprentice, Count Dooku.” He took in a deep breath, trying to rid himself of the surge of hate at the man’s name. “I know the mere idea of one of our own Falling so far is distressing, but Count Dooku has by now accepted the Sith name of Tyrannus. The Republic ordered the Jedi to command its Grand Army, and the Jedi Order became militarized once more. Masters and Knights became Generals, Padawans became Commanders, and we lost many of our numbers.”

The Jedi Masters seemed greatly disturbed, but Anakin could feel their wariness and he planted his feet. Staring back at Master Ima-Gun Di, he resumed:

“Master, you died defending Ryloth so the Rebellion there could escape.” He turned to Master Rancisis. “You, Master, survived the end of the war, which was no small feat, as did you, Master Tholme. Master Koon, you died at the end of the war, as did you, Master Windu, though to your credit, you opposed the Sith Master one on one.”

He licked his lips.

“The war also made many of our numbers Fall. The end of the war came with the death of Count Dooku at my hand, and General Grievous’s at my Master’s… and the Sith took over. That is when I Fell.” He took a deep breath, trying to speak past the knot in his throat. “The Jedi were exterminated in a matter of hours, with less than a hundred Knights and Masters surviving the initial slaughter.” His hands were trembling. “An Empire was established to replace the Republic, and with my… disciples”, the name sat wrong on his tongue, “I hunted the remaining Jedi.”

- _a Padawan, standing up to him, trying to buy some time for younglings to escape. He twirls his blade, stabs the Mirialan teen through the chest as his men shoot the babies in their cribs. He doesn’t think of his own children, he can’t, not now. He cuts down a gaggle of frightened Initiates, and fights a Sentinel to get to Bear Clan. The screams echo in the halls and in the Force, the feel of thousands of Jedi dying at once. The Force is Dark around him, a weapon in his hands, his fury, his desperation made lethal. He looks down into the frightened eyes of a Duros initiate, and plunges his ‘sabre into her heart._

Anakin fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face. Outside of the madness, outside of the Darkness, the horror took him at the throat and if he had been slightly better, he would have thrown up. But there was something lodged in his throat that wouldn’t let him speak, his shields faltering for a moment, letting the Jedi glimpse the horror of their halls full of their dying young, elders and wounded. They had heard of the Sith and what they were capable of, but they hadn’t witnessed it first-hand.

He shuddered, and gulped.

“My Master survived the initial Purge, and re-joined with Master Yoda, who had also survived. He was sent after me”, his voice shook, but he needed to speak, needed to purge himself of the vileness inside, “while Master Yoda confronted the Sith Master. Master Yoda failed, and finished his life in exile. My Master-” He tried to breath, but could only remember the blistering heat of Mustafar, the terrible pain where his legs should be, the flames licking at his flesh and slowly devouring him. “We fought on Mustafar”, he said, voice cracking. “I lost.” He tried to breathe past the horror, past the tumult in the Force at his confession. “He left me to burn.”

He closed his eyes. The pain from that day was still a very clear memory in his mind. He would have welcomed death, had it come. But Palpatine had been faster.

“The Sith Master found me in time and… saved my life. I spent the next twenty years encased in a life-support suit, doing his bidding because there was nothing left to hold on to. Until Luke.”

He reached for the light, for the bright memory that was Luke. Brave Luke, who wanted to be a Jedi like his father before him. Brave, kind-hearted Luke, who believed in him to the end, and saved him.

He took in a shuddering breath, and focused. _There is no emotion, there is peace_.

“There was a Rebellion against the Empire, and they attacked a super-weapon built by the Sith.” He couldn’t stop himself from sneering at the memory of the offense that was the Death Star. “The pilot who took the shot that exploded the weapon was named Luke Skywalker, and he was introduced to the Force by my old Master. He later completed his training as a Jedi with Master Yoda. The Emperor wanted him as his Apprentice, and I wanted him because-” he choked. “Because he was my son”, he teared out with a sob. “He resisted the Darkness, and would have died at the Sith Master’s hand. And after that, I would have had to hunt for his twin sister who had been raised separately from him. But Luke resisted, and kept on appealing to the part of me I thought had died on Mustafar.” He breathed. “He called me ‘Father’, even when I was the reason for his suffering. I killed the Emperor before he could end my son, but the effort condemned me. Luke brought me back, and forgave me.”

He looked up, straight back at Master Windu.

“He _forgave_ me. After everything I’d done, he was brave enough, kind enough to throw his lightsabre aside and tell the Sith that he was a Jedi, like-” he choked, and ended in a whisper “- like his father before him.”

There was a murmur in the Force, the disquiet of the Masters echoing his own distress, but no words exchanged out-loud.

“Are you saying you foreswore the Sith Code?”

Anakin looked around, and nodded.

“I did. I’m _trying_ , I swear, but… everything’s so messy. I don’t want to make the same mistakes, I don’t want to- to be _him_ again.”  
“Perhaps you could start by giving us the identity of the Sith Master, then”, Master Di said.

Anakin shook his head.

“I already gave you Dooku. His Master is too powerful, both as a Sith and as a man. He could already destroy the Order if we acted recklessly against him.”  
“You seem awfully confident in the power of this Sith Master”, Master Koon pointed out.

Anakin looked at him, disbelief clear on his face.

“His coup was the culmination of thousand years of Sith plotting, his plans have plans within plans, and he has more knowledge of the Dark Side than the Jedi could ever know. It was also brought to my attention that-” he gulped. “My existence might be from his and his own Master’s meddling.”

Mace Windu leaned forward.

“What do you mean?”  
“Master Jinn never told you?” Anakin said, his eyebrows going up. “I have no father. I was literally conceived by the Force, and if you don’t believe me, take a look at my DNA and RNA. Darth Plagueis had found ways to counter death and create life by manipulating midichlorians. The Sith Master believed that it was one of those experiments that could have resulted in my conception. This is power well beyond what the Jedi know, and the Sith Master is searching to escape his own death, like all Sith do.”

Master Tholme was peering at him.

“And you, Skywalker? Do you fear death?”

This time, Anakin looked down.

“…Not my own”, he replied after a moment. “Attachment was my downfall. I couldn’t let go of my wife, couldn’t bear to lose her. I’m not sure I could now. She was my everything, and I will always love her, and I refuse to go down that same path. I have resolved to never seek contact with her.” He looked up. “It’s the only way.”  
“It is a laudable resolve, Skywalker, but you’re still on the verge of Falling. The way you called on the Dark Side and almost killed a Jedi Knight-”

This time, Anakin’s head snapped up and he sneered, and for a second, the masters of the council got a glimpse of Darth Vader.

“Do not ask me to be sorry for that”, he spat. “I shouldn’t have used the Dark Side, but Pong Krell is certainly no Jedi. He Fell on his own last time and slaughtered my men to suit his plans, but even before he Fell, he was already a wretched sentient. Where is compassion in denying men their names and identity, simply because they weren’t born free? Where is justice in not caring what damage your troops take to gain victory, because you don’t see them as sentients? Or is the Jedi Code only a tool to be used when it suits you to punish those you deem unworthy?”  
“Pong Krell has done none of those things yet”, Master Rancisis pointed out. “Or should we judge you for the acts of your past as well? Even though they haven’t happened yet?”  
“Maybe he hasn’t done _this_ yet because he hadn’t had the opportunity”, Anakin spat, “but take a look at his mission reports, ask fellow Jedi how he is. You will find no compassion there, which as I recall is an essential tenet of our faith. You will find success, yes, but at what cost?” He took a breath, lips curling in disgust and baring his teeth. “ _Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me._ Those are the tenets of the Sith Code, and I have no doubt you will find his actions disturbingly close to these beliefs.”  
“We will not let the matter lie unattended, young Skywalker”, Master Koon replied peacefully. “But it is not the subject at hand.”  
“…Are you evicting me from the Order?” Anakin asked, his voice cold so he wouldn’t show how scared he was at the prospect.

Before, he’d always known he had Padmé – but if he was banished now, he would have nothing. Well, he would have two Sith Lords to kill – potentially three, if he managed to find Maul – but that wasn’t exactly a home, _nor_ the support system he knew he needed. He would find himself alone, and Palpatine would surely reach out, which was the last thing he needed. 

“No, Skywalker”, Master Windu replied. “This is the last thing you need right now, and certainly the least wise decision we could take.” He looked at his fellow councillors, and nodded. “We will give you our decision once we’ve reached it. In the meantime, the Sentinels will bring you back to your cell.” 

Anakin managed to snag a nap before he got called back to the Council of Reconciliations, awaiting their decision. He’d received no news from Obi-Wan, but he wasn’t exactly surprised to find him in the Council chamber. Not when the decision would impact both of them and, as far as the rules were concerned, Anakin was still a Padawan. 

“You have shown your will to get better”, Master Windu said, “and know that it played heavily in our decision. You will be confined to the Temple and your Master’s guard for the foreseeable future, your lightsabre entrusted to this Council. You are not permitted to train with a weapon, though you may practice open-handed katas. You will attend bi-weekly sessions with a Mind-Healer specially appointed, who will report on your progress to this Council. You will not be allowed out of your Master’s quarters without a Sentinel escort. You are still in Master Obi-Wan’s care and guard.” 

He hadn’t expected anything less, though the confinement would surely drive him crazy. He knew his compliance would weight in the balance, and he was determined to take this opportunity of getting better. He bowed respectfully. 

“Thank you, Masters.” 

He glanced at Obi-Wan, who looked grave and pensive. He wondered what they had told him. Enough that he didn’t seemed panicked, but still worried. He hoped they wouldn’t keep him too long: the war would start in roughly a year, and he wanted to spare his men. At least, it gave him some time to think of his plan. 

This time, he wouldn’t let Sidious go that easily. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was very cathartic to rip into Pong Krell like this, yes.  
> I think, at this point, when Anakin starts talking, he can't stop himself. It's all been left festering for so long, it all just... comes out, and you wonder how worse it could be, and he always manages to make it worse. Notice how he didn't say a thing about the younglings.


	7. The Team.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anakin is cooped up inside and Obi-Wan does his best to distract him. It works. Somewhat.  
> Obi-Wan learns more than he bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't planned to post this but I hesitated between posting a shorter chapter now or waiting and then posting a longer chapter. As you can see, "short and now" won.  
> Mando'a translations in the end notes. (as will be all translations, but it'll mainly be Mando'a)

It took three days before Anakin resolved to learn Mando’a. He had bits and pieces from his time with the clones, but it wasn’t enough. Not if he wanted to present himself as an ally to Jango Fett, and sway the man. He was pretty sure Fett hadn’t intended to leave his son an orphan, nor for the Jedi younglings to be slaughtered, or his own people to be Purged and obliterated. He was the best ally to save the clones, which was one of his main goals.

There might have been, also, the fact that he was going a little bit stir-crazy already. Being cooped up had never agreed with him, but the fact that he’d been going without sleep for something close to seventy hours, give or take a few, was probably the main one. He’d woken up the first night after two hours of sleep, a choked scream dying on his lips, and resumed his habit of avoiding sleep to avoid nightmares altogether. Not that it had worked well last time, when all he saw when he closed his eyes was Padmé dying. Still, it was the only thing he could think off, meditating his way through the night to keep on going, but try as he might, meditation wasn’t real sleep. He was pretty sure his Mind-Healer, when he would actually meet them, would tear him a new one for that.

“ _Ko-te lo'- lo’shebs'ul nar-it_”, he sounded, stumbling over the foreign consonants and vowels.

In the kitchen, Obi-Wan spat out his tea.

_“What?”_  
“Did I say it wrong?” Anakin asked, dismayed.  
Obi-Wan had done his best to act like things were just the same as usual, much as they were different, but it didn’t make it truth. Still, it was a blessing and helped him not to lose his mind _completely_.

“I- Yes, that was actually horrible and my ears are bleeding out”, Obi-Wan replied, “more importantly, _are you trying to get yourself killed?”_

Anakin gaped at him.

“Did I say it so wrong that it sounded like an insult?”  
“Anakin, no matter how you say it, it _is_ an insult. A Mandalorian insult. Who would deck you if you said that.”

Anakin huffed.

“Well this Complete Guide to Mando’a is kriffing bantha poodoo, because it claimed it was a respectful greeting”, he said, throwing aside the datapad and crossing his arms.

This time, Obi-Wan snickered and came over, settling at the table with him, taking in the notepads strewn around and partially covered with his chicken scratch writing, probably still full of errors. He’d never been the best when it came to orthograph.

“I’m pretty sure this Guide is the _Mando’ade_ concept of a practical joke”, Obi-Wan said. “Are you trying to learn Mando’a?”

Anakin lifted an eyebrow and looked at him.

“No, I’m practicing my Alderaanian”, he deadpanned. “Master, I know I say dumb things, but sometimes you ask the dumbest questions.”  
“Respect your old Master”, Obi-Wan huffed with a smile, lightly tapping his head with a datapad. “Alright, I walked right into that one. Do you want help?”

Anakin’s gaze lit up.

“Right, I’d forgotten you’re fluent! I don’t have to struggle through this by myself, thank the Force!” He leant forward, palms flat on the table. “Please tell me it’s simpler than Kittât because otherwise I will _die_.”

Obi-Wan eyed him for a second, but didn’t comment on his Sith knowledge. No matter how he pushed, he couldn’t figure out what Obi-Wan had been told by the Council, and he refused to tell him himself – once had been enough, thank you very much.

“It is _way_ simpler than Kittât. In fact, if you’ve learnt Kittât, Mando’a will be a piece of cake.”

Learning that Mando’a recognized no gender and conjugated in the simplest manner put a balm on his heart. He had never been very good with languages, unlike Obi-Wan – or, rather, he had never learnt them without being continuously exposed to them, which was how he’d learnt Huttese, Ryl and Aurebesh.

“Is there a reason you want to learn Mando’a, or did you just pick it up because it sounded cool?” Obi-Wan asked when they took a pause, around two hours later, as he poured tea.  
“Both”, Anakin drawled. “Old friends I hope to gain faster if I can speak the damn language.”  
“Old friends”, Obi-Wan said. “ _Mandalorian_ old friends.”

Anakin looked at him, affronted.

“That’s rich, coming from you!”  
“What do you mean?” Obi-Wan asked, wary.  
“I’m talking about your _fiancée_ , you know the one? Blonde, blue eyes, very devoted to peace, and, uh, _Duchess of Mandalore?_ ”

Obi-Wan’s cup clinked when he set it down in the saucer, his hands trembling slightly.

“Ah. You’ve heard about that.”

Anakin stared back at him.

“Master. You consciously disobeyed the Council to go and help her. And believe me, I know what it’s like to love someone even after years have passed.” He closed his eyes, the memory painful in his heart. “I doubt there will ever be a day where I won’t love Padmé with all that I am.”  
“She was still that important to you? In your future-past?”  
“I Fell for Attachment to her”, Anakin breathed. “What do you think?”  
“Passion burns bright, but not long”, Obi-Wan pointed out.  
“We were married for three years and I mourned her for the following twenty”, Anakin replied, chipper than he’d intended, but feeling his chest tightening at the thought of Padmé. “Sorry, that came out wrong. My point is, I know what it’s like to love someone beyond years. You simply had the strength to do what I never could. Well, you and her both.”

Obi-Wan had stilled completely.

“What do you mean?”  
“You would have left the Order if she’d asked. You said so yourself.”  
“And yet I’m here”, Obi-Wan replied.  
“Because she didn’t ask. Because she had the strength to let you go. For duty.”

Obi-Wan took in a shaky breath, and stood from the table, walking around and putting his back to Anakin.

“We fought all the time”, he finally said, his voice trembling slightly. “She defended the New Mandalorians’ pacifist arguments, and I argued for the Jedi’s peacekeeping.”  
“Well, don’t worry, you still did that a good fifteen years later”, Anakin replied, smiling. “I learnt aboard a bombed ship. The culprit had the remote in hand, and was about to escape with it. He would have killed thousands of people. Duchess Kryze had a blaster trained on him, and you had your lightsabre. She couldn’t shoot and thus betray her ideals, and had you killed him, she would have despised you as a murderer.”

Obi-Wan turned slightly, his shoulders tensed.

“What happened?”  
“Oh, I stabbed him”, Anakin waved his hand. “He said ‘Who will strike first and brand themselves a cold-blooded killer?’. You were a bit mad at me, of course, but, I mean, _thousands_ of lives.”

Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t suppose this is one of the deaths you actually regret?”

Anakin weighed his answer carefully.

“We were at war, and I took one life to save thousands, including yours. And my Padawan’s. It was nothing personal, though the guy was a bit of an asshole. I didn’t regret it back then, and I don’t regret it now. I didn’t kill an innocent, I raised my lightsabre in defence of myself and others, against an armed opponent.”  
“Well, I don’t think I can fault you that one”, Obi-Wan admitted. He paused. “What happened to Satine?”

Anakin crossed his arms.

“She died. Maul killed her to hurt you.”

Obi-Wan’s tea-cup exploded on the table, splashing tea everywhere and sending its pieces flying.

“ _WHAT?”_ he whirled around, his eyes wide and afraid. “ _MAUL_ killed her?!”

Anakin grimaced. He’d forgotten his master didn’t actually know that Darth Maul was still kicking, even though he was quite mad at the moment.

“He survived out of sheer hatred for you”, he finally said. “He’s downright mad at the moment, and aside from knowing the Nightsisters were involved, I have no idea how he recovered his sanity. Either way, he set out to get his revenge against you.”

Obi-Wan clenched his fist, and took a deep breath, his Force-Presence frayed and all over the place.

“It feels like a nightmare”, his Master whispered. “It is not one, is it?”  
“I wish”, Anakin sighed. “He took over the crime syndicates, allied himself with Death Watch, and took over Mandalore as _Mand’alor_. Bo-Katan Kryze became _Mand’alor_ after him. My Padawan helped her re-conquer Mandalore, and Maul had to run away.”

Obi-Wan turned, and crossed his arms to stare at him. Anakin had a feeling his Master would focus on a non-sensical detail and deal with what he’d learnt later, on his own. He had a feeling Obi-Wan would be assigned sessions with a Mind-Healer too.

“A Padawan? I had a grand-padawan?”

Anakin smiled, thinking about his Snips. Force, but he missed her. He couldn’t forgive himself for everything he put her through, and especially for their fight on Malachor, during which he would have killed her if she hadn’t somehow escaped him.

“You loved her. The two of you were close, you were almost as much her Master as I was.” He paused. “It was Yoda’s devious plot that brought her to me. You had asked for another Padawan, and one was sent to us. Except she had been told _I_ was her Master. I was terrified at first, but… we worked well together. She was very talented, and I’m still so very proud of her.”

Obi-Wan was scandalized, Anakin could tell.

“You were _assigned_ a Padawan?! And what’s this about my asking for another Padawan?”  
“We were at war, Master”, Anakin said softly. “We needed more Knights and more Masters, and so we had to train Padawans. They were some of the main casualties amongst us.” He shook his head. “It wasn’t right. She had to grow up way too quickly to lead men in battle, and I _despise_ how capable she was. She should never have needed to be.”  
“Clearly, the Order had lost its way, if it asked such things of us”, Obi-Wan replied. “Let’s go back to Mando’a, shall we? This won’t happen again. Not now that we’ve been warned.”  
“I won’t let it happen again”, Anakin promised, even though _that_ wasn’t what Obi-Wan had asked of him. “Alright then, Mando’a! I’m back on track.”

They spent another two hours working together, before Anakin started to tinker and Obi-Wan went to meditate.

Anakin hadn’t planned to fall asleep. He really hadn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Kote lo'shebs'ul narit_ : You can keep your glory. (very insulting)  
>  _Mando'ade_ : children of Mandalore (the name Mandalorians use for themselves).  
>  _Mand'alor_ : sole ruler.
> 
> NB: Kittât is one of the three Sith dialects.


	8. Reaching out.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know that sharing a dream/nightmare trope? Yeah. How about we make it hurt?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! I was stuck on this chapter but I pulled through yesterday and here we are.

Obi-Wan knew he was sleeping, but that didn’t detract from how real the dream felt. He was also pretty sure it wasn’t his own. He had never been that tall. He was walking in what he recognized as Tatooinian sand dunes, a small, blonde young man by his side.

“Uncle Owen never told me you were a Jedi”, the young man said. “Nor that you were from Tatooine too, but that, I guessed by myself.” He smiled softly. “Skywalker is a slave name, after all.”  
“I’m so proud of you”, came Anakin’s chocked voice, like he was trying not to sob. “Did you tell your sister that you were right?”

The young man smiled blindingly, and for a second, Obi-Wan was struck by how much this young man looked like Anakin.

“Of course I did”, the young Jedi – for he was a Jedi, that much was clear – replied. “She’s waiting for you.”

The sand fell away, as did the young man, and Obi-Wan found himself standing on the deck of a large war-vessel. He was in pain, his breath short and forced, fingers tight over the thin shoulder of a very young, very small woman. He could feel how fierce she was, and there was pride echoing in his heart.

“I have you”, he whispered, his voice stilted and mechanical and yet managing to be soft as he wrapped two long, massive, black-outfitted arms around her, curling a massive frame around her as though to protect her. “You have nothing to fear anymore, Leia, my Leia, my darling.”

A crackle, and the scene changed. His skin felt raw and painful as he knelt, his body still as unwieldy as before. His limbs were heavy, and vision tinted red.

“As you want, my Master”, he rasped, and his voice echoed, metallic and strained, his breathing slow and mechanical.

The Force felt cold, oily around him, as though it was trying to suffocate him. Slowly, he stood up, facing a figure clad in a hooded black robe – but he didn’t miss the golden glint of Sith eyes under the hood.

The scene disappeared again, and he was towering over a clone commander – whatever that was-, whom he – Anakin? Obi-Wan didn’t know any of this - recognized as Commander Fox. The man reeked of fear in the Force, but didn’t show any of it, and Obi-Wan felt sick at the feeling.

“CC-1010, this mistake will be your last”, he growled, deep and mechanic.

He felt the Force shift, his grip tightening around the clo- _Fox’s_ throat and slowly lifting him. There was the disgusting crack of broken bones, and Fox’s light in the Force disappeared, and he fell limp. Dead.

The vision of white and red armour fell away, and he saw his own face – streaked with tears, his hair shorter, cheeks hollow and covered in soot. He was holding two ‘sabres in his hand, which he recognized as his and Anakin’s. There was pain, too. Blisters forming on his body and the agonizing pain in his legs and in his arm, the burning in his eyes, the snarling and slashing of the Force around him and the noise in his head, so loud he couldn’t even _think_.

“You were my _brother_ , Anakin! I _loved_ you!” the body that was his screamed, his voice raw like it was shattering in millions of pieces.

He saw, in his eyes, the defeat. This was a man who had given up – who had been broken one time too many. His mouth opened on a ragged moan as pain flared, fire crawling up his body, and he looked in horror as the man who was him and yet wasn’t turned and walked away. Leaving him to burn. Leaving him to die.

He woke up with a gasp, a scream on his lips, and realized with dawning horror that these had not been _his_ dreams, but Anakin’s, leaking through their bond as the young man’s shields had relaxed a tad too much in his sleep. He dragged a hand over his face and stepped out of his bedroom, only to find Anakin asleep on the floor, tossing and turning in his nightmares, softly begging “no, no” as he tried to get away from something. He swiftly got to his side and prodded him, trying to wake him up gently.

Anakin nearly decked him when he sat up brutally, screaming out a heart-wrenching “NO!” as he reached out for something or someone that wasn’t there. His hair was drenched with sweat, skin cold and clammy, his breathing heavy and hieratic, and Obi-Wan reached out, physically and through their bond.

“Shh- It’s alright, Anakin. Look at me, dear one”, he said, gently cupping Anakin’s cheek to turn his face.

The young man startled and stared at him.

“Obi-Wan?” he whispered, voice broken with far too much grief.  
“I’m here, and I’m not leaving you, Anakin. Never.”

He shivered at the memory of what he’d seen, not knowing what was a dream and what was a memory, and pulled Anakin until he leaned against his chest, heaving and trembling.

He remembered many nights, years ago, when Anakin was still a little boy far from his mother in a new, scary world far too big for him, and he would hold him like this until he found the needed comfort. He hadn’t needed to do that in a while, but part of him kept on thinking that inside, Anakin was still that scared little kid who only wished for a bit of love and something to hold on.

“There was a Tooka cat”, Obi-Wan started to hum, “Who was skittish and scared, No one could come close, And hope to keep their nose.”

Almost immediately, he felt the whirlwind that was Anakin’s Force-presence calm down and still with each new word. His Padawan chuckled wetly against his chest, and it was not so different from those nights years ago, no...

“A Jedi came to pass”, Anakin said, unable to hum with him as Obi-Wan carded his fingers through his short hair, “And saw the Tooka cat.”  
“Sitting down, the Jedi waited, And let the Tooka come”, Obi-Wan resumed.  
“Am I not too old for nursery rhymes?” Anakin asked softly.  
“It works, though”, Obi-Wan replied. “Do you want to talk about it?”  
“I don’t know what I could say”, Anakin whispered back.

Obi-Wan hummed and focused on the feelings he’d gotten from the dreams – he was fairly sure the first one was safe.

“How about that boy who spoke to you? I understand he was close to you, wasn’t he?”

Anakin pulled back and stared at him, horrified.

“You saw my dreams?”  
“I’m afraid so, yes”, Obi-Wan replied. “Not that I understood much of them, but the first one didn’t seem completely unpleasant.”

Anakin took in a deep breath and focused on the memories of Luke’s light, of his stunning love for him, his compassion and strength even when faced to the Dark Side.

“Yes, I’d like to talk about him”, he said. “I miss him.” He smiled softly. “I didn’t even spend more than a handful of moment with him, and he meant the whole world to me.” He paused. “His name was Luke. And he was my son.”

Obi-Wan focused not to pause on this – on the fact that Anakin had had a son with a smile as bright as a sun and a presence that spoke of his deep rooting into the Light side of the Force.

“He looked a lot like you”, Obi-Wan remarked.  
“Yes. But he had his mother’s kindness. He was an amazing Jedi Knight. You were his Master, you know.” He closed his eyes for a second. “It’s thanks to him that I turned back to the Light. He had compassion, even after everything I’d done.”  
“You must be proud.”  
“Terribly”, Anakin admitted with a chuckle. “Which is stupid, because I did nothing for him except give him half of my genetics, and nightmares. And yet, I’m so proud of him it feels like my heart could explode.”

There was a silence, and Anakin spoke again:

“I’d like to take a walk outside. I don’t think I’ll sleep again.”  
“Do you want me along, or should I wait for you here?”  
“You need your sleep, Master. Force knows you certainly didn’t get enough last time.”  
“I’m here, if you need anything.”  
“I know. Thank you, Master.”

As expected, there was a Sentinel standing guard outside the door, and they fell into step with him without a word, leaving him to his thoughts. He wandered through the mostly empty corridors, finding joy in walking them again, his hands running along the walls and taking in the light, peace and joy infused in them through the millenaries. Eventually though, he came to a stop in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, and sat down where he was. He wasn’t sure he wanted to meditate, but simply basking in the peace of the place was enough for now.

He had no idea how long he’d sat there, in the silence, not open to the Force but not shielded against it. He hadn’t closed his eyes, taking in the Temple. He had spent years here, but they were still less than the many it was a ruin. He was thankful for this other chance, even though it was painful. Even though there was a chance he’d fuck it up. Mostly, he was glad to have Obi-Wan again. He hadn’t known how much he’d missed him until it was too late. Until he’d already ran him through with his lightsabre.

For a second, it felt like Luke was standing there, by his side. As it should always have been. Then the feeling was gone, and he heard the quiet tap-tap-tap of a gimmer stick on the floor. He didn’t need to turn to know it was Master Yoda who approached. The old Master hadn’t heard the whole of the story, and Anakin wondered how much Master Windu could tell him.

“Great measures, the Council of Reconciliation has taken, mmh?”  
“Nothing that was unwarranted, Master Yoda”, Anakin replied truthfully. “I am not… Not in the best place, at the moment. And I’m not ashamed to admit I need help.” He closed his eyes. “Last time, I made the mistake of trusting in the wrong place, and seeking help where there was nothing but smoke.”  
“Trust the Council, find it difficult, you do. Too harsh, we have been with you”, the old Master said, sitting down beside him.  
“Yes”, Anakin replied, because the truth needed to be said. “I was never a good Jedi, and I doubt I will ever be, but even my best wasn’t enough. I never asked for this prophecy, never even _claimed_ it, and yet everyone acted as though the future of the universe was balanced on my shoulders, and I was found lacking.”

Yoda’s ears drooped.

“Hasty, we may have been. The child of the prophecy, you don’t think you are? Sure of that, Qui-Gon was.”  
“I didn’t say that”, Anakin retorted. “I was. And I _failed_. I can’t- Master Yoda, I can’t be what everyone expects me to be. I couldn’t last time, and I can’t now. I have known Darkness and looked a true evil in the eye, and it is not something you come back from unscathed.”  
“Yet, a good Jedi, you are”, Master Yoda remarked. “Kind, you are. Compassionate, you are. Striving for justice, and brave. To master one’s emotions, difficult it is. To admit weakness, many fail to. Expect a lot from you, I do, because capable, you are. To see you be the best you can be, I want to. Unfeeling, the Jedi are not, but ruled by our emotions, we cannot be. Worry for you, we do. Powerful, you are, and dangerous, that is. Act in anger or fear, you should not.”

Anakin remembered perfectly what happened when he let his emotions run free – chaos and destruction, even against the ones he loved most, the ones he had tried to protect with this newfound power of his. The Dark Side was nothing but a lie. Sugar-coated poison, until the sugar turned acidic and there was nothing but pain.

“I understand that, now. I know what lays with the Dark Side, and yet, it is so complicated to… to act as I must. Sometimes, justice doesn’t feel like it is enough, and I find myself wanting _revenge_. And I know I shouldn’t hate but- Master Yoda, the Sith Master has brought me nothing but pain and betrayal after betrayal. I can’t _not_ hate him.”  
“Suffered much at his hands, you have, mmh? Passionate, you have always been, in all your feelings. Perhaps the Force’s will, it is. Perhaps some passion, the Jedi need.”  
“No, master. I am unbalanced, I can tell. However, I do think some things should change. The Order is already dying, through the Sith’s conspiracy. Allow older Initiates to stay longer than their thirteenth birthday. Resume accepting older children and maybe adults in the Order. Let the Jedi build families for themselves. The Order had all of this before, and were much more committed to justice and peace all around the galaxy, not just in the Republic. We are estranged from the people, Master. They see us as cold, super-powered magicians hiding away in their Temple. And all these things happened because of _fear_. Fear that one might Fall, when it is not the end. The name itself suggests that you can get back up. Where is the justice if, in the name of keeping a moral high-ground, a Jedi stop themselves from Falling momentarily and hundreds, thousands of people die?”  
“Reason, in the Dark Side, there is not”, Master Yoda pointed out. “Know this, you do.”

Anakin shook his head.

“I’m talking about something else. There is a difference between letting yourself be overwhelmed by your feelings and Falling in the process, and reaching out to the Darkside when in need of a surge of power, with carefully controlled emotions. Think of it as infiltration: you may act and talk like the bad guys, but it is all for a greater goal. Not everyone can do it, but the rewards have an immensely good potential.”  
“Of a step farther in the Vapaad technique, you are talking about, are you not?”  
“Yes!” Anakin replied. “Falling isn’t a spur of the moment thing – or at least, for me, it wasn’t. It was years in the making and hastened by the war, and at some point it was no longer a matter of ‘if’, but a matter of ‘when’. I just happened to break down at the wrong time in spectacular fashion, which was exactly what the Sith Master had in mind.”

He had already forgotten that there was a possibility – albeit small – that Master Yoda had _no idea_ what he was talking about, but the little green master showed no outward surprise or shock. He was simply listening to one of the Order’s greatest prodigies, and greatest threats.

“A matter of habit, you think it is?” he finally asked, genuinely curious, as the young man had a unique perspective on the problem.  
“Definitely”, Anakin replied. “You don’t fall by snapping your fingers. None of the Jedi whom I know Fell did. It was all very progressive. It’s like… Like a frog in boiling water! If you put it in already boiling water, it will jump out because it recognizes the hurt – and the Dark Side is painful to channel, if easier. However, if you put it in cold water and slowly increase the temperature, it won’t notice anything before it’s too late.”  
“An interesting theory, that is”, Yoda replied with a nod. “A heretic, and dangerous one. But interesting.”  
“It’s what happened to me, and I’m fairly sure this is what happened to Dooku”, Anakin declared.

Yoda’s ears drooped.

“Fall, you say he has?”  
“Master, I’m sorry to say this, but he Fell not long after leaving the Order”, Anakin said. “I know he was disappointed in the Republique, and in the Jedi and searched another way to do good. The Sith offered him a new path, just like they did with me, feeding on betrayal and deception.”  
“Saved, you were”, Master Yoda replied. “Saved, maybe he can be.” He tapped his stick. “My Padawan, he once was. Pain me, these news do.”  
“I don’t know”, Anakin replied, shaking his head. “Our circumstances are very different. So far, he has found everything he wanted with the Sith Master, while I lost everything from the first day and toiled painfully for twenty years, wishing for revenge and yet never finding the strength until my son showed me the way out. Losing Master Qui-Gon was the one thing that was too much. Everyone has a breaking point.”  
“Try, I will. Hope, I have. Meditate on this, I will, after sleep, I’ve had. Sleep too, you should.”

Anakin smiled sadly but didn’t reply to that. He had no wish to have nightmares again, especially if he shared them with Obi-Wan. There were things he hoped to spare his Master – many things, in fact. Sighing, he rose and made his way back to his place, the Sentinel trailing after him.


	9. The Younglings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes time, but Anakin finally goes to see the younglings, and promptly gets his heart broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first wrote this chapter, Ahsoka appeared, but then I realized it was too soon as her appearance kicks in the second arc (granted, the first one was rather short, but I don't intend this story to be monstrous). Which means I have their reunion written.

Anakin wasn’t exactly… _fresh_ for his meeting with his Mind-Healer in the morning. Well, at least they would see what kind of disaster they were facing. He realized, seeing them, that he had no idea who they were – probably because, given their age, they had died before the start of the war. As it was, Anakin would have been worried about causing them a heart-attack if he hadn’t been able to feel their Force-presence, strong and bright, solidly bolstered and ready to weather any tempest. The male Twi’lek smiled and guided him farther into the room secured for their appointment, which was heavily shielded to protect both Anakin and the Temple.

“Sit down, young Skywalker”, the Mind-Healer said. “I am Healer Akim’vecrom. As you know, the Council of Reconciliation has appointed me to you. I’ve been read into your situation, which is… unusual, one might say.”

Anakin couldn’t stop himself from snorting.

“You’ll have your work cut out for you, I believe”, Anakin replied. “Where do we start?”  
“How about you start by telling me how old you are up there, and what you like to do in your spare time?”

Anakin’s eyebrows went up.

“What, you don’t want to know about my Sithly deeds, the worlds I subjugated and the galaxy I kept into the Darkness?”

The Healer didn’t react.

“Oh we will come to that”, he replied. “But not yet.”  
“I’m… forty-six, if I’m not mistaken. Something like this. Time stopped mattering, after a moment. That, and I never really knew when I was born. Slaves don’t keep time, you see, and its advantageous for children to not have a fixed age. A child remains with the mother until its fifth birthday, under Hutt law. I think I was five for quite some time. So, forty-six, maybe forty-seven.”  
“About thirty years more than your outwards age, then. Any difficulty adapting?”

This time, Anakin laughed.

“I’m not in pain, I can breathe by myself, I have a lot more energy and all four of my limbs. I had forgotten how it felt to have my right flesh-hand, you know. Why would I complain?”  
“Oh I did not say _complain_. I said _adapt_. Any… bumping into things, accidentally crushing objects?”  
“That happened when I first got my prosthetic. This is my _flesh-hand_. It’s part of me. Don’t worry, I’m perfectly adapted.”

(He wasn’t exactly. He had forgotten how being eighteen was like, but it would take some time for him to realize that. It would take some time for him to remember the swarm of hormones that drove him crazy at the time, and feel frustrated with himself.)

The Mind-Healer didn’t exactly look convinced, but he dropped the subjects.

“You had prosthetics, then. Do you want to talk about what happened?”  
“Depends”, Anakin said, rocking on the ball of his feet and in his seat. “Do you want to go into trauma right away?”  
“Are you capable of talking about it?”  
“I lost my right hand to a Sith Lord because I got cocky and over-confident”, Anakin replied. “I was nineteen, and we were just starting a war. I can even tell you how phantom pain feels like, and that we have absolutely _poodoo_ prosthetics. I tinkered with mine, until it was completely new.”  
“Do you resent the man who cut off your hand, then?”

Anakin rose his eyebrows – still delighted that he could do so.

“Cutting my hand is just one of the many things I hold against him. His war crimes are another. I have all the reasons in the world to resent him, even though it’s not a very Jedi thing to do.”  
“And what did you do about that anger, last time?”  
“Lobbed off his head”, he replied with a shrug. Then he frowned. “I shouldn’t have. He was unarmed and defeated, I should have taken him prisoner.”  
“And why didn’t you?”  
“Because I was angry and there was a Sith Master egging me on, not that I knew who he was at the time”, Anakin snarled, crossing his arms defiantly and standing up to pace the room. “Telling me he was too dangerous to keep alive, which was _true_ , but it was no my choice to make. That, and it was his final move to get rid of his Apprentice and get ready to have me. How could I have been so _kriffing blind?!”_

The Force swelled, and nearly all the items in the room threw themselves at the wall, some shattering on impact. When the session ended, Anakin was exhausted. He tried to meditate, but visions of the past kept swimming by and he couldn’t settle nor balance himself. He ended up starting a new tinkering project, encoding the mouse droids of the Temple to curse in Mando’a and Huttese at any given occasion before releasing them back into the Temple. The tinkering had cleared his mind some, but what really made him feel better was leaning against his door and laughing when he heard one of the little droids rattle off one of his foulest Huttese curses to a stupefied Quinlan Vos.

“You wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with the sudden swarm of cursing mouse droids in the Temple, would you?” Obi-Wan asked the following day, and Anakin nearly choked himself laughing. “One of them called Master Windu a ‘karking _shabuir_’, so you understand my reasoning.”  
“I have no idea what you mean, Master”, he replied with the most innocent look he could manage, and Obi-Wan sighed and shook his head.

Obi-Wan took two hours each day – not necessarily consecutive – to teach him Mando’a, and Anakin was glad with his progress. Between that, tinkering and meditating because he had finally admitted this was necessary, along with some physical training, he managed to occupy most of his days.

Two weeks had passed, and his Mind-Healer seemed pleased with his progress. He’d talked about Alderaan, about the end of the Jedi Order. About his Padawan leaving. About fighting Obi-Wan, and burning on the lava shores of Mustafar. He’d talked about living in pain, about fearing the loss of his wife and then living through it. About the Tuskens, about the war. He still couldn’t talk about slaughtering the younglings.

Still, there were moments where none of this appealed to him, and he found himself idly doodling on a piece of flimsi. He wasn’t especially gifted, but he was good enough, though that was mostly thanks to the art-oriented clones. Sketches of people he’d known stretched on the flimsy – Padmé smiling, in her wedding dress, Ahsoka, fierce and grinning, Obi-Wan, nursing a mug of caf, Rex, calling orders, Fives, Hardcase and Tup, the details of Echo’s armour. He was surprised by how much he remembered.

With harder strokes, he brushed the portraits of Dooku, Ventress and Grievous, the lines darker and clearly showing his feelings on the matter. Painstakingly, he’d represented Darth Vader, standing in the open palm of Sidious. He didn’t dare sketch his children, Luke’s nova-bright smile and Leia’s fierce eyes. He was in the middle of drawing Thrawn when he felt Obi-Wan’s presence over his shoulder.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t pry”, his Master said, stepping back. “You were just so silent and still I got worried.”  
“It’s alright”, Anakin replied, resuming his sketch. “Not like I have anything better to do. I wouldn’t draw here if I was bothered by you seeing me.”  
“Still”, Obi-Wan insisted, but he listened to his silent invitation and leant back over his shoulder. “Are they brothers?” he asked, pointing to the clones.  
“In a way”, he replied, smiling. “Clones, actually. My men.”

Obi-Wan hummed thoughtfully.

“And this is the armour they wore… The one in your dream, in red and white, he was a clone too? Fox, I believe it was?”  
“Commander Fox”, Anakin replied, closing his eyes. “Commanding the Coruscant Guard. He was… dedicated to his duty”, he finally said.

Fox wasn’t at fault for anything that had happened, but Anakin still had a hard time getting over the fact that he would have killed Ahsoka if Anakin hadn’t stopped him. There was a silence, and:

“They’re the one you’re learning Mando’a for. Your men. The clones.”  
“In a way, yes. You connected to them in a way I never could, no matter how much I cared. I can’t help but think it was because from the start, I was struggling with the Dark. I’ve said and done things that, in retrospective, made no sense, and I know I’m in a bad place mentally, but the Sith bond had to be messing me up already.”  
“I should have noticed. You’ve been in my care for years, I should have noticed you were struggling.”  
“You did everything you could”, Anakin replied, shaking his head. “You couldn’t force me to talk… and even if you had, you couldn’t know about the Sith bond.” He leant back in his seat to look at him and crossed his arms. “Sidious started to manipulate me as soon as you took me as your Padawan. You didn’t have much reference for what was normal behaviour for me before then. You are not to blame.”  
“I can’t help but feel like I failed you terribly”, Obi-Wan replied softly, gently patting his head.

_I have failed you Anakin. I have failed you._

Anakin closed his eyes.

“It is I who failed you, Master”, he said. “I broke your heart. I know I did.” He took a deep breath. “I- There’s something I’ve been meaning to do for a while. Something that I need to do. I don’t think I can do it alone.”  
“Then I will be right by your side”, Obi-Wan replied. “Like always.”

Anakin released his breath.

“Thank you, Master.”

They walked shoulder to shoulder, though it was Anakin who led the way, his chest and hands growing cold as he got closer to the crèche. He paused when he felt their bright presence, choking.

“I killed them all”, he whispered, eyes wide in horror. Slowly, he looked down at his hands. He felt like they were dripping with blood. “All of them.”

He felt pain from Obi-Wan, and then his master was pulling him into an embrace and letting him hide his face in his shoulder, hunched over since he was taller than him.

“You haven’t done that here”, Obi-Wan whispered. “They are alive, and healthy, and happy. Bright lights in the Force. Come one”, he said, tugging him forward and into the crèche.

Anakin passed between the children from different age, trembling as he recognized them. This one had become a Padawan during the war. And died fighting it. This other was Knighted. That one… That one had been killed with her Master during Order 66. And this clan had been slaughtered by his troopers during the assault on the Temple. He paused at a clan of toddlers, barely old enough to talk. They were younger, but he recognized them all. They had died by his hand, not understanding what had happened. His gaze landed on a little boy who had to be around three, with blond hair and blue eyes, and he fell to his knees. The Force was singing around him, long tendrils reaching out for him.

_Master Skywalker! There are too many of them! What we are going to do?_

The child looked back at him and came over, a frown on his face. Gently, he reached out and laid a pudgy hand on his cheek. Anakin could feel the Force sing, and it told him _this one, this one, this one was always meant to be yours_ and he reached out with the Force and felt the boy reach out too. The Force melted and the connection slammed into place, and Anakin almost reeled back. The boy, however, started to grin and then laugh.

“Padawan Skywalker? Master Kenobi? Can I help you?” the Trandoshan crèche-master asked.  
“Who is this youngling?” Obi-Wan asked – clearly he had felt this, this instant connection.  
“This is Sors Bandeam”, the crèche-master replied. “Why would… Oh, I see”, they said, looking between Anakin and the boy.

Anakin reached out with a trembling hand, and cupped Sors’s head. Sent soothing warmth through the new bond, before he shielded it carefully so the youngling wouldn’t be overwhelmed by his power. He stood up abruptly and left, Obi-Wan scrambling to keep up with him.

“Was he your Padawan? The one you told me about?”  
“No”, Anakin replied tersely. “He was still a youngling then.”

Obi-Wan understood what he meant without him saying it. It still hurt, though.

Anakin was on his way back to their quarters, but he couldn’t bring himself to go back yet. Instead, he made his way to the Room of a Thousand Fountains and sat there. Obi-Wan put a hand on his shoulder.

“Meditate with me”, he said, an offer, a counsel, and Anakin disliked meditation, but…

He nodded and Obi-Wan sat down in front of him, Anakin’s hands into his own, palms up and open. He settled to follow his Master’s slow breathing, and let Obi-Wan’s calm pull him into the Force. His senses opened as the brilliance of the Force rushed through him. He could feel Obi-Wan’s warm, settled presence right beside him, their bond open and flowing with emotions. He peeled away a layer of shields from the new bond he had with Sors, feeling the boy’s bright presence, soft and gentle, soothing. He traced over the empty space where his bond with Ahsoka had been, and prodded at the scar left by his bond with Sidious.

A memory pressed forward, unbidden, and he realized it didn’t come from him: it was Obi-Wan’s memory. He recognized himself, still a child, looking back at his Master with wide, bright-blue eyes. He felt the calm happiness that came with the memory. He pushed forward one of his own in answer: fighting back to back against the droids, trusting, exhilarated.

When he opened his eyes again, he felt at peace, balanced and serene, like he had so rarely been in his life.

“Thank you, Master.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _shabuir_ : extreme insult - *jerk*, but much stronger.


	10. Ahsoka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anakin sees the one who once was his Padawan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, yes, we're starting a new arc! However, since I'm going to start working tomorrow and I have two other fics with weekly updates, this one may not be updated as often.

Between his sessions with the Mind-Healer, Obi-Wan’s precious help, spending time with the younglings, learning Mando’a, training to keep in shape and meditating at least weekly with Master Yoda, Anakin’s life was… full. He was glad, because it helped him not dwell too much on how he had very much Fucked Up. It was even better when Master Fisto, Master Koon and Master Tholme started to visit and took the time to talk with him, be it for a game, meditation or a serious discussion. Even training, sometimes, though it was always without blades.

He had never felt so balanced, nor so accepted before. For the first time in forever, he was at peace within the Temple – and not only at peace, but _at his place_. The Temple had never felt so much like home, and were it not for the Sith Lord currently at the head of the Republic, he would be content to spend his days like this, eventually getting up to design a plan to free the slaves – a project he had never abandoned. But there was a Sith Lord he very much wanted _dead_ , and an army of clones to be saved, and the more time passed, the more restless he grew.

It got worse when Master Yoda was finally able to meet with Dooku and, though the conversation was mostly veiled, got the confirmation that he had turned to the Dark Side. No matter how much he hated it, Anakin could recognize that if _he_ got a chance at redemption, then Dooku deserved it just as well. But it was, apparently, already too late for his great-grand-master, and as much as _he_ couldn’t bring himself to care, it pained him to see Master Yoda so affected by the desertion of his old Padawan.

He was appeased, though, when Master Koon informed him that the situation with Knight Krell had been handled. He didn’t tell him how, but it was enough to know Krell wouldn’t be traipsing the galaxy and killing his troopers. Given how seriously the Council had taken his warnings, and how they were doing their best to help him, he was feeling confident, for once, that they could do it and not everything laid on his shoulders.

He was having tea with Obi-Wan when there was a knock at the door, and Obi-Wan went to open: a Togruta Initiate was standing there, and Anakin caught sight of blue and white striped montrals before he stumbled out of his chair.

“Snips?” he croaked, voice catching in his throat.

Obi-Wan turned, surprised, and in doing so left an opening for the Initiate to slip by.

“Skyguy!” Ahsoka cried out, running into the room and slamming into him, nearly sending him to the ground.

He instinctively wrapped his arms around her small frame, definitely way smaller than he remembered, and stood shell-shocked, trying to process. He shuddered, growing cold as he realized she had used his nickname, and recognized when he’d called hers.

“Oh Force”, he gasped, horror mounting. “If I could have spared anyone… I’m sorry, Ahsoka. I’m so sorry.” He patted her montrals, and she pulled away.  
“What for?” she asked, confused.  
“I- What do you remember?” he asked in a whisper.  
“Not much”, she admitted. “But I remember I promised I’d never leave you again. And I remember it was an important promise. I always keep my promises.”

He couldn’t stop himself from sniffing and wiped his face with his sleeve, before he crouched to her height so he could hug her more comfortably. She was definitively _way_ smaller than when he’d met her on Christophsis, in the two years between now and then, she had to have had at least two growth spurts. Gently, he pulled away and cupped her face in his palms – two human palms, both warm against her skin – and looked at her.

A laugh startled out of him, along with tears.

“Snips”, he whispered. “Oh, I missed you!”  
“I missed you too, Master”, she replied immediately, hugging him again. “It’s strange. I don’t remember much, but I know I missed you.”  
“What do you remember?” he whispered.  
“Meeting you on Christophsis”, she replied. “Rex. I remember Rex. And Master Obi-Wan. Everything else is… foggy. I have flashes, but nothing else.”  
“Since when?”  
“Two days ago. I fell during sabre training and hit my head, and the Healers thought I’d hurt myself bad, but I had to see you. I- I was worried I’d gone crazy.”  
“You’re not crazy, Snips”, he replied, smiling. “You are a _gift_.”

He felt her reach out to him with his mind, and he answered in kind, only to feel their bond painfully snap into place. The bond that had taken them months of efforts to create the first time was back, vivid and brilliant and feeling an empty space in his mind he hadn’t realized was there. They both hunched over at the feeling, surprised, before familiarity took over.

“You wanna explain what’s going on?” Obi-Wan asked, his arms crossed, not upset but visibly worried.

Ahsoka pulled back and bowed with more poise and grace than an Initiate her age should have.

“Initiate Tano, Master Obi-Wan”, she said.  
“My Padawan”, Anakin said, and laughed. “Oh Force, my Padawan! The three of us together again!”

This time, Obi-Wan caught on and stumbled back, leaning into the wall.

“She remembers too?” he asked in a hush.

Ahsoka nodded, and leaned into Anakin’s chest, warmth, love and dedication pouring through their bond. Then, she looked at him more attentively.

“Your hair looks weird like this.”

He’d let it grow out of the Padawan cut, though he still had his braid woven into the curls, and after two months it did look a little wild. Obi-Wan hadn’t protested – he too understood he would feel weird if he suddenly had his Padawan braid again, and no beard.

“Thank you Snips, you really warm my heart”, he replied dryly.

He made some more tea for the three of them, still dizzy with joy, while Obi-Wan got to know his grand-padawan, as unofficial as it was. The Council would probably protest about the proceedings, but there was nothing they could have done about the bond snapping into place like this. Ahsoka eventually had to leave, and it was only later that night, as he laid in bed and unable to sleep with how he was buzzing from the news, that a question filled him with dread:

What if _he_ came to remember, too?


	11. Padawan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahsoka becomes Anakin's Padawan - again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hilarious fact: I've had this chapter written for a while and just... forgot to post it.  
> *drowns in WIPs*

Anakin presented his case to the Council the following day, Ahsoka and Obi-Wan standing at his side. He couldn’t officially take Ahsoka as his Padawan, but the fact was that in all but name, she already was. And the Council very much recognized him as a Knight already: the only reason he hadn’t been Knighted was to leave him in Obi-Wan’s care, which was much needed.

“That’s unprecedented”, Master Windu said, steepling his fingers. “Your training bond with Sors Bandeam was no problem, as there are still years before he is old enough to be taken as a Padawan. Initiate Tano, however, would have become your Padawan immediately.”  
“Your competence isn’t even in question”, Master Koon replied. “You already trained her successfully once, from my understanding. But you understand our concerns.”  
“Which are akin to mine”, Anakin replied. “But the Force wills it. I- I _want_ to train Initiate Tano, and take her as my Padawan Learner.” He took a deep breath. “Master Obi-Wan was very much a part of her training last time. I couldn’t have done it without him, and I wouldn’t try to do so now.”  
“Master Kenobi, your opinion?” Yoda asked.  
“It is fairly obvious that in spite of everything, Anakin is ready to be Knighted. We all know he has only remained under my guard so I could care for him. I would continue to do so, given adequate help, even if he were Knighted.”  
“I want to keep my braid”, Anakin blurted out, and they all stared at him. “It’s… I lost it too early last time. It is important to me, as a reminder that I’m still learning, because I _am_ still learning. I’m still… struggling with the Dark Side. Having my bond with my Master helped me last time, it helps me now, and I can’t- I need some tethers.”  
“Mmh. Initiate Tano?” Yoda said.  
“Master Yoda?” the young Togruta replied, stepping forward.  
“Your future, we are discussing.”

She nodded.

“I trust Master Skywalker to guide me”, she replied with certainty. “My memories are certainly not as complete as his are, but I have enough left of them to know he was the Master I needed to become a good Jedi Knight. Master Skywalker once told me that I couldn’t have made it as anyone else’s Padawan, but as his…” She smiled. “We were a good match, Masters, for all that Master Skywalker didn’t choose me.”

Anakin beamed at her and Obi-Wan discreetly elbowed him into Council-appropriate behaviour, which only made Ahsoka snicker. Obi-Wan tried very hard not to roll his eyes, and he felt a flash of something… familiar, gone as soon as he paid more attention to it. He was still fairly sure that it had been a memory.

The easy way with which ‘Master Skywalker’ fell from her tongue convinced him that this was the right decision.

Master Windu nodded after looking at his fellow Councillors.

“Padawan Skywalker, you will be Knighted in two days. You will then be authorized to take Initiate Tano as your Padawan Learner.” He turned to Obi-Wan. “Master Kenobi”, he said, “we will move you to three bedrooms quarters, so that you may keep an eye on your Padawan, and help in Initiate Tano’s training.”  
“Thank you”, they said in remarkable unison while bowing.  
“Padawan Skywalker, if you would remain, the Council would like to discuss your Trials”, Master Koon added. “While I have a good idea of their nature, we would appreciate if you could explain them to all of us.”

Anakin blinked. It had been a while since he last thought about the Trials – his had been a long time ago, and Ahsoka had never taken hers. Oh, she had been a Knight in all but name, but… He never got to Knight her. Taking a breath, he set to recount everything related to his Trials.

His Knighting Ceremony was much more light-hearted than he remembered – but then, it had been war the last time. It was surprising to many, that he got Knighted while still confined to his Master’s apartment, but he was glad he had no reason to deal with Sidious. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his calm if he had to face him.  
Training Ahsoka felt good, even if they couldn’t go on missions yet. She learnt faster than she did the first time he was her Master, and it seemed memories, while she couldn’t access them consciously, were seeping into her training. But even like this, he couldn’t quiet the voice in his mind asking what he would do if Sidious, too, regained his memories. He didn’t doubt that the Sith Master would immediately do his best to have him killed, and on a full-out confrontation, he knew he held no chance. He wasn’t so arrogant as to think it was his skill that had let him kill the Emperor, but rather the Sith’s blindness to the gaping hole in his loyalty – namely, Luke.

Time ticked by, the war got closer, and he didn’t seem to be any closer to freedom. A part of him missed Obi-Wan as he had known him, but he couldn’t wish so much pain and misery on a brother so dearly loved.

The realization came as he meditated with his Master and his Padawan – the three of them finally reunited, he was still so grateful that he got to have that again… The Force nudged him rather powerfully, and he felt his throat tighten at what it asked him to do. He had to take action, rapidly, and find allies. Allies that weren’t Jedi, the feeling was very strict on that point. Everything pointed to the clones, and it seemed the Force agreed with him that Jango Fett would make a powerful ally, if he could be turned against Dooku and his master.

Still, the idea of leaving his cherished Master and adored Padawan behind grated. He prepared still, to leave during the night. He could easily do so, the restrictions put on him not nearly enough to keep him in Temple if he wanted to leave. He wondered, though, how it would be like to go back out in the galaxy. Darth Vader was a relic of his past, but it still clung to him like a heavy robe. He doubted it was one he would ever shed, not when he had so much blood on his hands. He knew he hadn’t been rotten from the start – when Qui-Gon Jinn had found him, he had everything to make a good Jedi. He had even saved a Tusken’s life. Palpatine was to blame for most of his slow fall from grace, but- Palpatine wasn’t the only one had fault. He had made choices, too, most of them bad.

He had chosen to hide the Tusken massacre, and done so successfully. He had chosen to love and marry Padmé. Hadn’t been strong enough to resist the call, and let himself become obsessed. Possessive. Everything was blurred and a mess, and while he had raged, he knew he’d been given his chances. Obi-Wan could have killed him within minutes of their duel on Mustafar. He hadn’t done so, even when his hands were still coated in the younglings' blood. Waiting for him to come back, to repent, to atone. He could have come back so many times, if he hadn’t let himself be chained by the powerful addiction of the Dark Side.

He was out of the Temple and on his way to Kamino when he noticed the void in the Force, aboard his ship. Putting the autopilot on, he went in search of it. Opened one of the large crates in the cargo, only to find his Padawan curled up on herself, Force-cuffs on her wrists to hide her presence from his senses. He had so carefully shielded his bonds to her and Obi-Wan while preparing to leave, he hadn’t noticed her disappearance. She had settled into a light trance, economizing her energy and oxygen, and he was impressed. Impressed and furious.

He stamped down hard on the latter, removed the cuffs, and nudged her awake. She did so with a startle, jumping out of her crate like a jack-in-a-box and nearly bowling him over doing so.

“Master!” she squeaked, caught red-handed.

He had a sudden flash-back to a time, long ago, where she’d sneaked onto his mission to the Citadel. Just like this. He let out a sigh.

“Snips”, he said tiredly. “What are you doing here?”  
“I’m keeping my promise”, she replied, her chin high. “To never leave you again.”  
“You don’t know where I’m going.”  
“I know you’ll find Rex”, she retaliated. “Master, I… I don’t know what’s going on, but you’ve been very preoccupied lately and the Force kept prodding at me.”  
“You’re going back to Coruscant on our next stop”, he replied. “Snips, I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, and… The Council might decide I’m not fit to be a Jedi. If you want to be a Jedi, go back. Master Obi-Wan can train you, I know he can.”  
“But it’s _you_ my Master”, she retorted, and crossed her arms. “Skyguy, I’m sure of one thing: where you go, I go. I remember… I remember no longer being a Jedi, and yet you reached out for me. I can no longer be a Jedi, and follow you, if that’s what the Force wills.”  
“I could die”, Anakin suggested. “I’m about to do something reckless, stupid and dangerous.”  
“It’s a good thing I’m here to guard your back then”, she grinned back cheekily, and he smiled, pulling her into a hug.  
“You will be a great Jedi”, he promised. “I know you will.”

After all, he had seen it.


End file.
